Mistaken
by Kiasohma
Summary: Ichigo's contemplating too much on his bad luck, unfortunately, it only gets worse when he was somehow mistaken for a criminal-look-alike by a certain blue-haired crook himself. Somehow, nothing gets better like how Ichigo had hoped. GrimmIchi AU R
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

"Grimmjow, I really don't wanna say this…but I can't help but feel that this is all _your_ fault…"

Though the man did not say anything in response, Ichigo watched Grimmjow's reaction to his immature complaint with interest. He saw a flicker of emotion in the man's eyes but it wasn't long lasted and he frowned. A grumble from said man only served to irritate Ichigo even further but he dared not question anything else, settling to lounging his dark, brown orbs around the room they were in instead.

The monochromatic theme unsettled him, and the orange-haired teen wondered briefly if there was such a thing as cleanness that ridiculously exceeds the limit of reality, to an extent in which even a speck of tiny dust could not be detected, because if anyone had a gripe about this not being true, he would probably, gladly prove them wrong.

Ichigo felt Grimmjow's stare on his back and tilted his head, arching an eyebrow a moment later—after he was done contemplating the dull, stupid, old floors and walls—in a manner that spoke out "What?!" quite rudely.

They weren't facing each other, but mere peripheral view was enough to notify any action from the other.

Grimmjow snorted at him and craned his neck to the second source of amusement. A big mirror was placed in front of the two captured convicts about five feet away, the corners stretching to each far edges of the white wall, as sparkly clean as anything else, and _no_, that was not something _good_.

It was a _radiant _piece of junk that hurt his eyes, a piece of _crap _that refused to show the handsome man that he was, replacing him with this…_this _hideous, horrible looking _Grimmjow Jagarjaques—_because he was deprived from sleep and precious food but he blamed it because he could. Adding to the myriad of possible crude comments for this mirror, it was also a _shitty_ _liar_.

Grimmjow wasn't stupid, and what behind it just pissed him off. He could just imagine it; guys in suits looking like the useless louts they were, watching him and Ichigo, laughing their asses off at their accomplishment in recovering the two criminals. Oh, what he would just giv—no, _sacrifice_, to break in there and garrote one of them with their stupid black tie that they were so fond of (seriously if you like them that much, man, go to hell with it), preferably the jackass that hit him unconscious with a giant stick.

All that should be seen was white, yet it reflected back a very annoyed man whose hair was dark teal—_ostentatious—_as well as looking like someone who was about to commit a suicide out of sheet boredom alone—perhaps a homicide but then he would have to consider the victim being his orange-haired partner, and that was just difficult. Not impossible…just _difficult_.

Grimmjow made a face at the glassy, flat object. He snapped.

"Get the fuck in here, bastards!" Grimmjow made his anger clear, finally running out of patience and deciding to do something about the bothersome silence that appeared to be slicing his brains to speckles, as expressed by his mouth turning into some kind of twisted form of the tortured. "Ya ain't getting nothing by just staring you pervs!"

He hated being bored. People like Grimmjow hated the mundane, the monotonous lifestyle of a _normal_ human being, and would rather take a bullet to the gut than living it. Ichigo said it was melodramatic; the boy took a pillow to the face just for opening his mouth and disturbed Grimmjow's precious nap that day.

"Double negatives, Grimm," Ichigo muttered, not quite interested.

Grimmjow groaned before trying to twist his head to see the irritating face. "Ya know—why do you have to do that all the time?!"

"Do what?"

"That!" he growled. "That idiotic patronizing tone…it's _annoying_."

"…oh…" Ichigo shifted in his seat, seeming apologetic. "Well whatever, you got us into this mess!"

"I did no such thing. Shut it, Ichi." Grimmjow slouched, signifying the end of the discussion for Ichigo because he knew the boy knew damn well that Grimmjow would not be replying and he could talk to himself all he wanted like a crazy person if he wished to, which was just mortifying.

Grimmjow glared at the door on his right. He sighed.

"How the hell did I even—shit…don't even want to _think_ it!" the words trailed off, but it sparked an interest from the other.

"What?" Ichigo asked curiously.

The boy could hear Grimmjow let out another heave of breath. He waited, but mentally calmed his nerve down from breaking pass the point to the anger management level of his that was just so easy to be pressed.

"…was just wonderin', Ichi, how we got to how we are right now—Oi don't look at me like that. Yes, I know that you're making that face!" Grimmjow moved his feet again, and let out a tiny grumble at the uncomfortable bonds on both his ankles and wrists.

True to Grimmjow's words, Ichigo's visage was contorted into something near aghast and 'WTF!' expression.

"Your wording are getting out of whack, but are you talking about the dire situation—no not _dire_, how about complicated…yeah, _that_, or about…" Ichigo paused. "…our relation_shit_."

Ichigo could feel the man behind him fume.

"WHAT, YOU HATE BEING WITH ME THAT MUCH THAT THE FIRST FUCKING WORD THAT COME OUT FROM YOUR BLABBERNG MOU—."

"Grimm!"

"BECAUSE YOU KNOW THAT'S FINE! EFFING _FINE_, SINCE IT'S YO—."

"NO! That's not what I meant—Grimm, stop yelling, we're still in the fucking _ROOM_!

Words stopped spilling from the teal head's lips instantly, but Grimmjow was far from being calm. Ichigo sensed—he thought the chairs broke in halves from the shaking for a second, but nah—the violent intentions practically rolling off the man's body in red, angry waves and silently shivered at what to become of the building and its inhabitants if Grimmjow was to be released. Well with them being captured and everything, that was a good thing for him though…right?

…If they got out of here, he was _screwed_ wasn't he…

But getting Grimmjow's point, Ichigo couldn't help but wonder. _How_ the hell did they get to be on such good terms—an overstatement of course—as friends, as partners-in-crime, as…lovers?

The first time they met, the two hated each other's guts.

Very, _very_ much.

* * *

A/N: OK, so this is the start my main story I am working on: Mistaken. For the sake of the readers, I will post two chapters as the opening of this fanfic. ENJOY!! Read and Review!


	2. WTF! I'm not a criminal!

_**Chapter 1: WTF! I'm not a criminal! **_

"Lieutenant, every squad there near Gate B must be going on stand by." The loud voice boomed from a room. The squeaky sound of boots sliding across the cement floor never let down their paces as the lone occupant inside the cell was ignored, disregarded in favor to a more important matter.

A man unbuckled the receiver from the belt and raised it to reply. "Roger that, Captain. All units are making their way—." The sound of shooting interrupted his response and the red head turned. Abarai Renji kept his thumb steady on the button, waiting. "…sorry, Byakuya-taicho." At that, he cut off all transmission and focused on the approaching footsteps.

He waited, reaching to brush against the gun against his side, as if to check if it was still there.

Only a mere lost enforcer traveled through the hallway, looking confused and searching. Renji relaxed his body when he saw the kid and sighed before meeting his gaze with a glare when he turned his way. Probably a new recruit.

"What the hell?!"

The recruit looked at him and saluted fearfully. "S-sorry, sir. I…I was never fond of rats and…"

"What..?" Renji stared at the kid. He stepped out of the cell for a minute and turned to look. As expected, they were fresh, new holes on the far right corner of the wall. He scowled.

To make the matter worse, as if to emphasize some kind of point, a little, gray creature scurried from the cell and appeared from behind Renji's boots. The trainee squeaked and clutched his weapon closed to his chest. Renji noticed it, and when the kid looked up, he was met with a narrower glare from the lieutenant. _Oh, I _DARE _you to try, brat._

He gave the newbie a scolding and sent him along his way, making sure that he was ready or he would have to pull the kid out. Renji watched the black-haired trainee leave to claim his station at the aforementioned Gate and shook his head in a bit of disappointment.

"Sheesh, the hell's up with these punks? Good job picking, you damn officials." He groaned, swiping a strand of hair back up. The sweat made it stick easily along with the other loose strands that were unable to be tied up with the band. "An outbreak like this can't be handled by these brats…"

The convict was a man in his twenties, or perhaps that was what his body looked belonged to, and that was _fine_ to be printed in on the wanted poster at least—made it easier for the people to look for. Renji wasn't well informed on the personal profile of this certain prisoner, but so were the others. They all merely knew his face, his age guessed, and the colors of his hair and eyes; a murderer and thief; never did got to his name, something that Renji was quite pissed about.

"_How_ exactly do you capture someone but don't know their name?!" Abarai scowled at the irresponsible actions the officials made. Just because the criminal was brought in 2 days ago—weren't they supposed to know his _name_ by this point? "And now the bastard ESCAPED!"

Renji wasn't about to acknowledge the man but he was smart enough to notice that the criminal was _good_. They weren't dealing with amateurs here, and this man probably had killed many. _Murderer and Thief_; skilled in both trickery and evasiveness, cruel and cunning. Problem, problem.

He sighed. "The guy at the very least got guts, man. To try breaking from a prison…" Renji heard the alarm outside went louder and the change in pitch; more sharp. _Shit_. "…no…not try—that bastard really _is_ going to _break out_!"

Renji immediately slammed the cell's door to the side and ran out. Screw commands. He was given an order to stay and investigate the prisoner's cell, but this was a time for action. Damn the consequences and damn those higher-ups to hell. "They're putting the wrong people on the wrong jobs! Shit, I have to be there!"

Sharply turning a corner, Abarai Renji ran. He made it down half the staircases when he reached there, and then, deciding that it was faster, jumped down from the second floor. He landed with a 'thud', his leg muscles straining from the harsh impact but they were ignored quickly, the arms steadying him and lifting his crouched form from the ground.

"Okay, that wasn't the best of ideas…" the red head grumbled to no one in particular and continued on his way, seeing the gate approaching him the more he moved forward.

Shit, _shit, _SHIT! The bastard's getting away!

He was so focused that he didn't pay any attention to the people on the main ground. Renji didn't stop when a familiar voice called out to him, getting louder by the seconds. He kept on chasing, hearing the sirens, the alarms crying much louder than before.

His foot was about to stick out the main entrance before he was pulled back harshly. The scruff of his neck was suddenly occupied by strong hands, forcing him backward, falling. He gasped when he landed, his breath knocked out of him.

"Ouc—."

Renji was dragged from the floor before he could even take in another breath, his back slammed into a nearby wall. His eyes closed instinctively and he tried to force them back open—his head was ringing.

"Abarai!"

Renji recognized that voice, that_ tone_. He just heard it not too long ago…when he was in the room.

"Kuchiki…taicho?"

The red-haired lieutenant got a better look at the face that was in front of him, the expression as stone cold as ever. Who else could it possibly be? Renji mentally scolded himself.

"Abarai," his captain muttered in return. "Abarai, what were you doing?"

Renji raised his head. "I…ah—the prisoner! Those idiots are going to let him get aw—."

He was pulled forward and thrown back to the same wall, the force cutting him off ruthlessly. "You idiot…"

That coming from Kuchiki Byakuya's lips was plain horrifying. Renji shivered at the tone and had no choice but to shut his trap and stayed down, his head dropping an inch forward in a way similar to submission. Byakuya paused and watched his subordinate calmed down.

"…Why aren't you at your station? You were supposed to be there and keep an eye out for any suspicious subjects, as well as check the prisoner's living station," Byakuya told him.

Renji started to retaliate, "But taicho—."

"Whatever excuses you are going to give me now, it will not be _necessary_," the older man quieted him. "You were to remain in the cell until further orders; instead, you cut your superiors off and left."

Renji's mouth hung open, nothing coming out to prove his captain wrong. Byakuya told him curtly to shut his mouth. He did as he was told, once he realized.

"Kuchiki-taicho, they're wrong…" Renji's voice appeared muffled. The black-haired captain merely raised an eyebrow in question. "They're wrong to put the new recruits in near the main gates! I mean, that's just asking for trouble. It doesn't have to be this certain bastard! Anyone, just ANYONE, really they could have just _walk _out with close to no trouble at all. Experience my ass! If this keeps up—."

"There was nothing you could have done…" Byakuya spoke. He saw his lieutenant still rambling on. He sighed, "…Abarai, what am I going to do with you..?"

Renji stopped instantly when he saw his captain closed his eyes and looked away. Was he mad? Renji rarely saw Byakuya in this state and honestly it terrified him. He might have said too much. But he was just trying…

The captain stepped away from the red head to give him room before glaring back. "I'm returning to the commander for report with Ukitake-taicho," he turned around and paused, like he was contemplating on a matter but it was quickly decided.

"If it makes you any happier, though I would doubt it," Byakuya said. "This isn't the first time _he _escaped from the police when it seemed like it was impossible. Ukitake-taicho said something about this being some sort of _game_ to him, and he had just taken this to another level entirely—so if that's you sulking, stop it."

Renji's eyes widen, but quickly regained their normal sizes. The lieutenant was curious. "Then he—us capturing him never did mean anything from the start…Byakuya-taicho, who _is _this guy?"

The black-haired male noticed the first-name-last-name change, but chose to ignore and deemed as mere irritation. Byakuya was miffed. His lieutenant was a rebelling idiot, though he couldn't agree more with said idiot in which the officials were _lacking_.His mind was all a jumble of mess and stress, and that made him angry the most. But he answered.

"A _mere criminal_. Nothing more, nothing less."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Ichigo was not pleased.

Although school was not something he _disliked_, he never did like it either. He tolerated it, but perhaps today was just asking for trouble.

"No."

The reply was curt, short. Ichigo blinked.

"Sensei—."

"The answer is no. No going to the bathroom today. You are _not_ excused," the teacher cut him off as he froze mid-step from his desk. Ichigo seemed to be confused, but he knew more than anyone that _that_ response was bound to come sooner or later these days. He just didn't expect it.

He got away with it every fucking time! Maybe the teacher caught on pretty quickly. No, he did _not_ have bladder problem—Ichigo'd kick anyone in the face for saying otherwise. Honestly, he was just tired. But then using this excuse to go rest in the locker room or behind the bushes—and if worse came to worse, Ichigo wasn't above 'ditching' but that was rare—was just, in a matter of speaking…_cliché_. He used the bathroom trick _so_ much that it really shouldn't had come as a surprise that he was simply pushing his luck too far.

"Please return to your seat, Kurosaki-kun," the teacher told him. Ichigo grumbled to himself and walked a few steps back before sitting down.

The teacher made sure he was seated properly before she continued on. She was being so _anal_ today it wasn't even funny! Seriously, the woman even went all the way to running across the room to block the exit once she heard him called, before cutting him off rudely.

She seemed kind of smug about it, too, and that plainly ticked him off.

It didn't matter much anyway whether he stayed or left. Today was a drag and Ichigo ended up learning nothing, his face always facing the window. A couple of chalks were thrown at him to get his attention, but he never did for long. And at the sound of the school bell, he didn't rush out like some others, but simply packed his things and left in a bored manner.

He really _was _tired. Why was that?

This morning he woke up and fell off the bed. His breakfast was burned, not because it was Yuzu's fault, but because he pressed down the toast _twice_ in the machine. Ichigo was scolded by his sister for wasting food, but he didn't see what the problem was since he ate them anyway. When he came to school and wanted to go to sleep, his teacher refused to acknowledge that—which was something _normal_ for one teacher to do, but…

_'But I got away every. Fucking. Time!'_ Ichigo groaned mentally.

All this was like some sort of foreboding, omniscience sort of crap that was saying that something bad was going to happen to him or something.

"Alright, that would be the worst, load of bull crap that I ever thought of…" Ichigo mumbled. It wasn't true, he thought up worse ideas, like that time in the classroom with the window and the tape and Tatsuki fumin—um…yeah, that.

He shook his head furiously to throw out the horrible experience.

_Can this day get any WORSE!?_

A sound of sirens greeted his ears. Ichigo turned around from where he was standing and watched as two police cruisers made their way towards him.

_Oh, Come ON! I didn't say that like I was _ASKING_ for trouble or anything…_

Ichigo's face was twisted into something that was safe to be clarified as a grimace; his eyes narrowed and his mouth parted slightly at the scene.

Just when he thought he was going to be run over from the speeding cars, they stopped roughly and the doors were shoved open. Only two polices from the first cruiser came to greet him, the others waiting respectively in another.

Ichigo noticed that one of the cops was smiling at him, and the other couldn't make it more obvious that he hated his face the moment they met eyes and wouldn't give a fuck if Ichigo was to be shot right now out of the blue. The orange-haired teen tried to make his face as normal as possible. He never did like cops.

_SO…one's a fucking liar, and his partner a selfish bastard… _

"Hey kid, mind if we ask you some questions?"

_Yes_

"No, I don't mind. Somethin' wrong?" Ichigo replied, instead.

The police continued, "We're looking for someone…'was wondering if you can help."  
Ichigo, having his day ruined, decided to be an asshole about it. "There's an awful lot of _someone_ in this neighborhood. Wanna be a little more specific on that?"

He saw the cop who asked him the question laughed, but the bastard one glared at him and told him to stop kidding around with this highly condescending and serious tone.

"Now, now, Ishida. The boy has a sense of humor. You must appreciate that," the nice one commented. The man with white hair, Ishida, directed his glare to his partner instead, before sighing and turning away.

"We're getting nothing from him, Kisuke, might as well continue our search _before_ the guy really gets away," Ishida exclaimed. He shook his head impatiently and started walking back to the cruiser. The one named Kisuke watched him go before shrugging and turned back to look at Ichigo. The man had blondish color hair and a nice smile; his eyes kind, though inside looked like he was laughing. It unnerved Ichigo and he wondered if the man knew some kind of inside joke that the others were missing out. Still, Ichigo didn't trust cops.

"Sorry for that, Ishida never was a funny man," he laughed. "I'm gonna be going, too. Now, be careful on the streets, kid."

Ichigo was a bit taken back by the comment. "I'm not a kid anymore, ya know. 'Sides there're never really a lot of cars here."

Kisuke laughed again. "That's not what I meant, kid," he paused, looked behind his shoulder—he saw Ishida leaning on the car door, waiting—and turned back to utter his last warning.

"A guy's on the loose, we're tryin' to catch him," the cop smiled, but his tone contradicted his peaceful face. "Keep an eye out for him, 'k?"

He winked, and Ichigo felt like he really _was_ missing out on a joke—and a really important one at that. Ichigo nodded and the cop was on his way. The orange head realized something before he walked away and called out.

"How do I know if it's him or not, you know, when I _do_ see him?"

Kisuke turned his head a fraction and smiled. "Oh, you'll know. Pretentious guy that he is." He tipped his head in a manner of farewell and left. The two cops got into the cruiser and backed up, the car behind already gone. Kisuke was the driver and he hit the trash can on the way out to the main road, leaving Ichigo wondering if they were going to be alright from the way his partner was yelling at him to stop and get out.

"What was that all about?" Ichigo muttered to himself. Yet, he couldn't help but felt he shouldn't take the cop's warning for grant.

Something in Kisuke's tone bothered him. It was too…_knowing_.

Ichigo simply decided to leave the matter alone and hurried home. He wasn't afraid, but judging from today's run-in with misfortune, it just didn't seem to go well, and getting into a fight was not going to help in the least.

The first drop of rain hit his nose and Ichigo glared up the sky, moping inwardly at his luck. The teen threw his bag over his head and kept it there before starting to run, his hand clutching tightly at the object. He came to an intersection and twisted to the right, seeing the roof to his house not far from the position he was in. Ichigo gladly turned another corner to get even closer.

The orange-haired teen was happy to be within a 5-meter radius from the two-story building he called his home, pity he didn't pay enough attention to his surroundings with his eyes intently focused on it.

"Gotcha'!"

Ichigo tried to turned, and that was all the warning he got as black blurred into his peripheral view and he was knocked down by a larger form.

"What the—who the hell?!" The orange head tried to struggle away from the leaning body that was much too close for comfort. When all those movements ended up in failure, he at least tried to get the face of the bastard that dared knock him down. He was seeing stars from the blow for Christ's sake.

"Get off—."

"HA! They're gone aren't they?" the man cut him off, panting in exhaustion from both adrenaline and excitement. For whatever reason beyond Ichigo's understanding, the guy was not lifting his face, but he did noticed a bunch of blue strands hanging in front of him and Ichigo raised his eyebrows in wonder.

_The jerk has blue hair?_

"Shit, you bastard, I thought you were going to be the death of me," the blue haired weirdo exclaimed brusquely. Ichigo snorted at his tone. "What? 'thought I was going to let you tell them where I was so easily? Not a chance!"

_What the fuck is this guy talking about!?_

Ichigo merely stared ahead; the opposite wall seemed to be in view more than he expected it to be. For some reason, he didn't push the man off yet.

"Look…_dude_," the orange-haired teen stated. "I have NO idea what you're saying, and if you don't get off soon, I'm gonna have to kick your ass." He said it like it was no one's business.

That seemed to hit a nerve. Calmly, the teal head was lifted, and Ichigo was greeted with a pair of blue orbs; dark markings decorated in straight lines under the eyes. Ichigo's eyes remained narrowed, though he swallowed from the awkwardness of their position and the man's refusal to get off.

"You selfish bastard, _still_ pretending to be innocent," the man commented. "You think that if you get rid of me and faking to be a naïve passerby, you're gonna be in the clear? I'll take you down with me, punk."

_If anyone here understood what this idiot was talking about, _please,_ throw me a fucking lifeline or something and _explain_. _

Ichigo was pissed as hell. "For the last time, I DON"T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!"

"So what, because you're a murderer, it makes you a liar, too? What a surprise; package deal," the man ignored Ichigo's words and threw in his own sarcastic remark, which made the teen's anger doubled in size. By any chance that you could see this, Anger would probably looked like an overblown, red balloon that was about to explode and stab innocent bystanders with its rubbery shrapnel along with it.

The incoming storm was not making the matter any better.

"A _murderer_?!" Ichigo's eyes were about to pop out of their sockets from the sheer accusation.

The man still had the audacity to smirk back at him. "What, not enough? That reaction itself's a low blow, man. After what Ulqui told me—deaths, thievery, breaking-entering, was that it?—I would have expected a better response from someone like you." The teal-haired bastard started to move away, a bit disappointed from this encounter. "What a real let down."

"HEY!" Ichigo immediately followed up and scowled when he realized he was on the ground alone. "Who the hell are you anyway? Attacking people in broad daylight and then saying weird _claims_ like that!"

A snort was sent his way, and the orange-haired teen shook his fist in anger.

"First off, broad _daylight_?" the jerk commented, cynicism written all over his face. "And second, they're not _claims_, they're FACTS. I'm not _accusing_ anyone."

"You're saying that I KILL someone!" Ichigo burst out.

"Yeah?" The response was short, annoying.

"And that's a _normal_ reaction from another once he _knows_ that I did," Ichigo said, unable to believe that a person could take this information so coolly. IF it was true, of course.

The man didn't seem ruffled by this but Ichigo could see that he was indeed running out of patience with this little chit-chat that was going nowhere.

"Alright, let's get this straight," The teal-haired man said with much irritation. His glared became slightly tapered. "What the hell were you doing with the cops?"

Ichigo's eyebrow rose. "They were asking me questions."

"About?"

"They wanted to know if…I," before Ichigo could continued anymore, something in his mind finally clicked into place, and he wasn't mad that he was slow, but rather, infuriated at how _long_ he was playing along with this…man. "…saw a guy…on the loose—oh SHIT!

"You're NOT him!"

"You're not him."

They simultaneously yelled out, though most of the shouting would be from the orange head, while the man merely groaned. Their meanings of the words were different in levels of importance; both pairs of eyes widen at their realization.

"Shit," a grumbled from the _criminal_. His tone was saying something like he got the wrong guy and he just grasped his own mistake from the revelation. "No, there's no fucking way… _you're_ coming with me."

Ichigo jerked away from reach when he saw an arm coming towards him. However, he didn't take obstacles into account, and the wall behind him only gave him a foot to move back. His arm was caught in a bruising grip.

"Let go!" Ichigo let out a string of curses, but the man showed no sign of being affected.

"Tch—stop moving around so much!" The man growled. "It's already more complicated than it should—."

"Complicated?! What did you expect from _mugging_ someone?" Ichigo scolded.

"I didn't MUG you! 'thought you were going to give me away and I did something about it!" The man exclaimed, briefly shocked by the colorful vocabularies that the boy was _still_ sharing. YES, he was affected by them; he had _ears_. "Despite being a crook, you're gonna give OTHERS away? No fucking chance. You're lower than low."

"How many fucking time do I have to tell you that I'm not a fuckin' _criminal_!" The teen let out.

"As many time as you want, 'cus I ain't believing it," the man uttered.

"But you just said—."

"Well there's no fucking way!" It would seem that the guy was still in denial. "Look here," he reached his free hand back to search his back pocket. A piece of flyer-paper was pulled out roughly and shoved into Ichigo's face. "There's no way in HELL that someone could look so much like each other! Or are you going to give me a shitty excuse that it's your evil twin or some crap?"

Ichigo tsked at the man's actions. He tore the paper away from its initial close proximity and ran his eyes through it.

_What kind of crap is this bastard showing me now?_

The orange-haired teen was alarmed when the face that stared back was his. No, not his, just…_very_ similar.

The picture was black and white, which might explain the confusion, but Ichigo barely believed his eyes himself. On the top of the paper was the word 'WANTED', bold and hardly appealing to him. In the middle was a man, possibly older than Ichigo, but by only a few years. He had a smirk plastered under his nose and spiky hair that _matched_ his, only that it was white—perhaps a light color like his orange. All the features _pointed _tohim, though the only difference that Ichigo could make out the easiest and in no-time at all was the glint in the eyes and the wicked intentions behind the grin.

"Got anything to say now?" A smug comment in front of him pulled Ichigo out of his thoughts. The orange-haired teen frowned.

"It's _not_ me," he said.

The man was angry by his response. "No. Fucking. Way. Stop lying, bastard!"

"I'm _not_. Look, I'm still going to High School, and obviously have _no_ time to be doing whatever THIS guy is doing." He shoved his finger to the picture. Then Ichigo lifted his bag and tugged at his uniform. "See the school bag, see the uniform? My house is right over _there_. I have two sisters and an idiot for a father. My name is _Kurosaki Ichigo_, not…whatever this guy's name is. Now leave me the fuck alone!"

The man was surprised when Ichigo jerked out from his grasp. He blinked at the boy's outburst and stepped back from the panting form.

_Whoah, what crawled up his ass?_

_Apparently, you._

The teal-haired man mentally punched and wringed his inner voice until it crawled back to whatever hole it came from. He paused to regain his senses before saying anything.

"You're right."

Ichigo was taken back from the man's answer. Was he backing down? Surely, Ichigo thought he was going to be putting up more of a fight, not that he was looking for one anyway. But the man looked like some jerk that was idiotically stubborn and would rather die than _admitting_ that he was wrong.

"You're right, there's no way you can be him," the man muttered. Then he smirked. "With a girly name like 'Strawberry'…who the hell can—pfft." The bastard didn't finish his sentence when he burst out laughing hysterically.

Ichigo was about to let out a self-satisfying smile until he was given _that_.

"You BASTARD!" The orange-haired teen was plain ticked off. "Cut it out," he growled when the laughter did not calm down.

"Oh man! What kind of name is 'Strawber—."

"It does NOT mean that!" Ichigo denied. He huffed and started to walk away. He didn't _need_ this shit from the guy.

"Wait, wait!" Ichigo's arm was grabbed again and he angrily grumbled.

"I swear to god—."

"Hey, c'mon, here me out," the man was still trying to stifle his laughter, and Ichigo pictured him spontaneously combusting. "I'm still finding it hard to believe that the guy in the picture's not you—." He raised a hand to stop Ichigo when he saw his mouth opened in protest. "BUT…I'm willing to let you try to tell me otherwise."

"I've BEEN doing it."

The man smirked. "Fair, but I'm afraid I'm gonna be needing more than just _words_ from you."

"You base your judgment on a piece of paper and you're looking for more from _me_," Unbelievable. Ichigo scoffed.

"Picture's worth a thousan' words, Ichi."

"Don't call me that," the teen felt a shiver ran up his spine from the nickname—awful. Just _plain embarrassing_. "And, I'm gonna need _a lot_ more than just a _thousand words_. Explain yourself."

Frankly, Ichigo didn't care, but the guy was keen to taking quite a lot from him and he didn't even get anything in return. That was simply rude.

"Alright," the teal head smirked. "Name's Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jagarjaques."

The orange-haired teen raised a questioning eyebrow. "It sounds like some kind of weird cat species and you make fun of mine?" It was Ichigo's turn to laugh.

Grimmjow nearly choke on his own spit. "Wh—that's just looking for trouble, man." He moved in and Ichigo raised his hands in front of his chest, giving up—and as defense if push came to shove.

"Ok, continue, _Grimmjow_," Ichigo rolled his eyes.

The man growled but that was it. "Male obviously; 22; single," He listed. All facts _unfair _in Ichigo's opinion—He told the guy where he _lived _and this guy was giving him crap. Grimmjow passed Ichigo a shit-eating grin when he saw the boy groaned, finishing off with, "Professional killer, _not _at your service."

The orange-haired teen was appalled at himself. "Remind me _why _I haven't called the cops yet."

"You _can't_," came the conceited voice.

"Was that a challenge?" Ichigo asked daringly.

"No," Grimmjow answered back. "It's a _given_."

And Ichigo wondered why he wasn't screaming for help, or running away from this psychopath thus far.

The answer was clear.

First off, he doesn't _scream_. The second reason was a bit of a risk-taker, but he was satisfied with this decision.

He didn't want to.

Ichigo was surprised that it took that _long_ for the rain to turn evil and crash down on them.

* * *

A/N: This one is MAD LONG isn't it? Lol, hope you guys have fun reading this chapter and not fall asleep during the middle of the story. R&R guys!!


	3. A Great Day to be a Thief

_**Chapter 2: A great day to be a thief**_

"_A day that started out bad can't be bad forever_," someone once said to him brightly. "_Something good is bound to happen during that time!"_

_Bull…shit._

Ichigo was currently lying in bed, reminiscing about yesterday unwanted encounter with the _hugest_ asshole he'd ever met in his entire life.

Yes, Grimmjow Jagarjaques was an asshole. He was also many other things, from a jerk to a bastard; head to toe. Living, walking, perfect example of the word 'arrogant son-of-a-bitch'. To top if off, the bastard was a _criminal_, and he didn't listen to other people too, no, just attacked them to the ground and proclaimed them 'murderer', 'thief', etc. He was so _full_ of himself!

"Now," Ichigo muttered wantonly. "Now I curse whoever said that 'day start out bad ain't gonna be bad' shit. You appear before me again and I'll say 'up yours'."

A hand went up to scratch his head furiously. It was Saturday morning and he was supposed to be enjoying himself, not scrunched up in his room moping. Ichigo blamed that blue-haired jackass for his state.

He sighed. "What to do, what to do…"

Ichigo decided on something simple; a walk. Decision made, he heaved himself up and changed into something suitable to be seen outside. He grabbed his earphones and shoved the machine into his pants pocket before heading out, greeting Yuzu and Karin on the way downstairs. It would seem that his sister had already taken care of his father for unknown reason as the man was already lying on the ground.

Ichigo said 'bye' to him and quickly shuffled away before the old-man had a chance to get up and do something idiotic to him.

Jogging away from his house—and out of his father's reach—Ichigo pulled out the head phones and stuffed them into each of his ear respectively. He scrolled through the playlist and settled on something random.

"Not much for sightseeing, is it?" Ichigo remarked on the dull walls that ran along the sides of the neighborhood's houses. If he walked a few miles down the main road, he would show up downtown with the shopping center and other stores, so he pondered on his choices.

He deliberated between going to the movies or the music store…

_Didn't Yuzu say something about wanting a new saucepan or something?_

…It ended up being neither.

Along the way, Ichigo thought back to his and Grimmjow's last conversation from yesterday.

_The rain came down quickly and changed into a ferocious downpour. The two males ran to take cover under a balcony of some unoccupied house; there were no lights coming from the inside. Ichigo did tried to run home, but Grimmjow pulled him with him. The boy had no choice but to follow in distaste. _

_"You really think that you can take me on in a fight?" Grimmjow asked when they were out of the rain, disbelief clear in his voice. _

_"You're not gonna use a gun or anything, are you?" Ichigo checked. Grimmjow replied with a no. "Then yeah, I can." The teen's face was blank._

_Grimmjow was amused. "I'm not letting you get a call in. If you even think of—Hey! Put that down!" _

_Apparently while Grimmjow was speaking, Ichigo had brought out his cell phone from his shirt pocket. "Why? I thought the point of you starting a fight was because you're trying to steal my cell phone."_

_"I'm not stealing your useless phone," Grimmjow exclaimed tiredly. "You said that you CAN call the police as a stupid challenge—."_

_"You started it!" Ichigo countered. _

_"This is getting _nowhere_." Suddenly a 'beeping' was heard. Ichigo inspected his phone momentarily, but then he remembered he still had it off._

_"What the hell are those two doing?!" Ichigo heard Grimmjow's tone rose. It was like he was alarmed by something he saw; a text message. "Idiots, if my room burn down…"_

_Only angry muttering was heard after that. Ichigo merely raised an eyebrow at the scene of Grimmjow cursing at his phone; or rather, the people who were unknowingly, fueling his steadily rising resentment._

_"Umm…what's up?" It was more out of common courtesy than curiosity that got Ichigo to speak up._

_The man growled, "How about those two, because as soon as I get there, they're going to heaven—." Grimmjow cut himself off, probably just realized that he was talking to Ichigo, and tsked at his reflex-driven reply. "Never mind, just…_friends_, if you can call them that."_

_Ichigo was quiet. Somehow it turned out to be an awkward situation, as the two stared out at the damp walls and watched as a wet cat took shelter behind a garbage can. Grimmjow shook his hair to get rid of the soaked strands and Ichigo scowled at the swine._

_"You're like a dog,"_

_"Funny," Grimmjow chuckled. "The others say I'm like a cat."_

_Ichigo smiled. "Cats are graceful. _You_, however, are anything but THAT."_

_"You don't know me, Ichi," the man lightly commented before shifting his eyes to Ichigo's face. "Want to?" _

_That earned Grimmjow a scoff. "No."_

_The teal-haired man laughed, noticing how Ichigo had missed the double meanings in his words. Well, he _was_ just trying to tousle the kid, but still. _

_"Well, whatever, I gotta go," Grimmjow announced. Ichigo looked at him and then ahead.  
"In this crazy weather?"_

_"Sure, why not? I' m more worried about something else right now." Grimmjow trailed off, thinking about the horrifying message from before, and the need to get home as soon as possible rose like spreading fire. He took another look at the orange-haired teen, and smirked. "Don't think you're getting away easy. We're _definitely_ gonna meet up again."_

_"Stalker," said Ichigo, "And don't count on it."_

_"You already saw my face, man. You know too much, can't let someone like that get away now, can I?" Grimmjow said, half-jokingly-half-seriously. Ichigo hoped it was leaning more towards the former. "See ya, Strawberry."_

_Ichigo glared and let the nickname slipped. He was too tired to deal with it in this depressing weather. "Doubt it," Ichigo added, as they parted ways. The teen counted himself lucky that his house was only two buildings away, and would have felt sorry for Grimmjow having to run to wherever in this pouring rain, was he not such a jerk of a crook. _

_Ichigo unlocked his door and slipped in, catching a body disappearing behind a corner when he turned to close the door._

_He swore he saw the man grinning. _

Ichigo frowned at the memory. 'The hell was _he_ happy about? He looked forward, the trip winding up faster than he expected.

The orange-haired man surveyed his surroundings, contemplating on his plans for the day; this included his 'not-to-do' list.

There was this one time when he was forced to hang out with Keigo and Mizuiro around here. Keigo jumped all over the place, dashing from this store to that shop, here to there, and Ichigo barely kept up—though he frankly didn't want to and the thought of ditching the guy came to mind many times. They ended up buying numerous useless junk that would later on be thrown out on Ichigo's part, and with Keigo around, the order was reckless and nerve wrecking.

Keigo bounced to a CD store and then ran to the hardware store, not caring about logic, he went straight to the book store—comic books—and bought like a dozen to be carry around town. It was all _heavy duty_ the first half of the day and _light load_ by the end of the evening. Ichigo would have complained about the arduous trash he had to drag around all day had Keigo not been there to be forced by the two to carry all the things bought, as such, Ichigo lucked out.

That was his 'not-to-do' list; he wouldn't want to carry any heavy stuff and then go to pick up something light before heading home anymore like that retard.

_I mean, that's just crude. _

So, he left the thought of buying Yuzu' cooking utensils at the deepest corner of his mind; he would do that last. Ichigo walked down the road, keeping himself to the side in order to avoid getting hit by cars. Although, there were a lot of amusements and entertainment to be found as he walked by, none caught his attention too deeply, and he merely walked pass the average shops: Fruits, Bakery, stuff like that.

While he was looking around, his gaze rested on a man leaning casually on his car ahead. He was wearing a dark blue uniform, his hat settling neatly on his head.

_Shit, a cop. Why are there so many around these days?!_

As if hearing Ichigo's thoughts, the man stared back at the orange-haired teen with a curious expression. Ichigo simply looked through him and continued on. He wasn't trying to avoid his eyes because he didn't do anything wrong, and wouldn't turning away make him look more suspicious?

Unfortunately, he _was_ suspicious even if he tried to look normal, what with his vivid color hair and all. Ichigo saw the cop standing up straight and calling someone, from his peripheral view as he tried to walk pass.

He wasn't surprise when he was told to stop.

_Oh, joy. _

"Kid, we need you for a bit," came the rough voice. "Need to check something."

Ichigo sighed, though he didn't expect the cop to thrust a piece of paper beside his face suddenly when he turned. _What the hell?!_ Ichigo frowned at the men; he counted three, another two approaching from the alley he didn't notice from before.

The teen glared to the side and saw a familiar face.

_Shit! _

Ichigo saw the police immediately leaning back when he saw the result of the comparison, obviously not expecting the corresponding outcome. It appeared that the man was just picking on Ichigo because he had nothing better to do and the kid's face looked like some punk who was a magnet for trouble. He clearly did not think that Ichigo would turn out to be someone of such importance like this.

Ichigo didn't _want _to be _important_.

"Damn! It really _is_ him."

"Call for back-up, man!"

"Okay, you, put your hands behind your head and face that wall."

"Don't make any commotion or we'll shoot."

The voices all mixed into each other like a bunch of raccoon arguing over a piece of garbage. Apparently, Ichigo was that piece of garbage, so now he wasn't any happier when a hand was carefully placed on his shoulder, frightened yet trying to be threatening. Ichigo wasn't any more satisfied when the reaction to him shrugging the hand off was the whipping out of batons and radios calling for recruit.

He tried to negotiate. "Look guys, you're getting the wrong person. No matter how much I look like—."

"Be quiet and face the wall"

"I'm not—."

"One more word and we'll be forced to take rash actions."

"Alright, alright!" Ichigo gave in.

He faced the wall and raised his arms to the back of his head. He heard the cops shuffled, but no one touched him, and Ichigo wondered what the criminal-look-alike actually did to make the police so cautious around him.

"Handcuff the bastard," one voice raised. No movements were made towards Ichigo.

It was then when someone considered, "You know, sir, it might be best…if we put him out first," that Ichigo started to have second thoughts of cooperating. "Use the taser to shock him or something…"

_Fuck this shit._

"Yeah, maybe that's a—HEY YOU! STO—idiots, he's getting away!" A loud voice boomed, but Ichigo couldn't care less as he darted through the dirty alleyway to the other side of town.

Ichigo muttered a curse under his breath and rounded the corner, heading straight down the street. He switched to many small streets and narrow passageways as much as possible, not staying on the main road for long as he attempted to confuse the police.

_COPS! _Ichigo scoffed mentally. _Like hell am I getting electrified!_

Ichigo growled and looked behind him, not pausing even for a minute. He didn't see anyone chasing after but he still ran. The teen slowed down into a walk and tried to blend in with the crowds after a couple of minutes. He was still a bit wary at the taser-equipped law enforcer when he passed quickly by a certain store.

A shade of blue caught his eyes and he needed to do a double take.

"Huh?" Ichigo didn't see anything, except endless stacks of CDs on the shelves, some people listening and bobbing their head at the 'Preview' point at the end of the ledge. The orange-haired teen shook his head and told himself that he was thinking too much.

His self-scolding wasn't long lasted when that annoying blue decided to stand up, making the scene looked even worse when he dragged someone else up with him. Ichigo couldn't hear anything Grimmjow was saying, but his eyes widen hugely just by witnessing the bastard doing something, that by law, would be considered as _domestic violence_—and seeing that he was in a store, it was probably, regrettably _more _than meets the eye.

Convincing himself that he _couldn't _save _everyone_,Ichigo decided to ignore it. "I'm in a lot of trouble as it is; I don't _need_ anymore of it," and he knew he was a complete asshole.

But…The sight was so excruciatingly atypical that Ichigo couldn't tore his eyes away from the glass window, all thoughts of being chased because of mistaken identity all shoved out of his head to be replaced with Grimmjow threatening someone with a pocket-knife. It was a wonder how nobody noticed it yet.

Feeling like being watched, Grimmjow paused in his actions and looked around. His eyes wandered outside and saw Ichigo's left eye twitching back at him. Grimmjow looked out strangely at first, but then flashed the teen a grin.

Ichigo shuddered in abhorrence.

_And why the hell is he waving this way?! _

The orange-haired teen twisted his head right and left charily. He didn't know this guy, he _didn't_. Grimmjow was just a strange man that was currently gesturing a finger at thin_ air_ and not _him_ to come into the shop. The man was _not_ looking at Ichigo and trying to _talk_ to him through the window.

_No, no, no, no. STOP looking over here!_

Try as he might to lie to himself, Ichigo was bothered by the signs Grimmjow was sending him to notice and go in, so he went in the store angrily.

"Ich—!"

"What the fuck!?!" Ichigo hissed at the man before he could greet him. Grimmjow blinked dumbly.

"What happened to _you_?" the man seemed calm to ask such questions after all the weird signals he sent to a very vexed orange head. "Nevermind that—help me with this for a sec."

Ichigo stared down at what Grimmjow was referring to and was alarmed to find a body lying on the ground, Grimmjow already lifting him up by his arms.

"What did you do?! What did you do to him?" Ichigo was hysterical, though he tried to keep his voice down.

"The guy's just unconscious, Ichi, now help me get him up," said Grimmjow. "Gotta need to teach him a lesson—."

"You _imbecile_," Ichigo hissed at him. Grimmjow glared at the teen. "Just watch, you're going to be caught one of these days and I'm gonna be sitting in my house and knowing _nothing_ about a blue-haired idiot!"

"I'm lettin' that one slide, but that's only because I'm busy right now," Grimmjow stated. "Now _help_."

Ichigo tsked, but strangely did what he was told. He picked up the legs and tried to nudge the back door to open as they slid along the back wall. How did he get into this mess? Ichigo questioned before turning his face to the side.

He saw a cop's boggling eyes stare back at him.

"Grimm?"

"What? Don't complain! We got lucky that there're barely people here and back—."

"We're not lucking out, man," Ichigo muttered, not tearing his gaze away from the window. "I. _Hate_ you."

Grimmjow followed the teen's eyes and stared. It was like time had stopped for a minute, but it was perpetually lasting to the three that were caught in a rather awkward moment. The two in the store looked back at each other and their thoughts clicked.

They darted out the back door with the extra baggage before the terrified cop could even grab at his transmitter.

"Don't look at me like that, _boy_. I would have been fine if you weren't such a slow-ass!" Grimmjow growled at Ichigo.

"Oh yeah? We're not even supposed to be carrying this person anyhow!" Ichigo countered pathetically. "And what the hell were you doing in that store anyway?!"

Grimmjow scoffed, "What, can't a guy look through his favorite bands in peace?"

"You mean, can't a guy _steal_ his favorite bands in peace!" the orange-haired teen corrected rudely.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. They were still running and Ichigo was not liking the moment for even a second. The sounds of sirens were loud now. The police probably took what the stumbled-upon-cop said at heart and now they were getting serious. It was bad enough as it was when the cops thought he was a criminal, and now that they knew _that_, the chances of him coming up with any excuses were zip-zero.

"You _asshole_," Ichigo hissed, needing to take his irritation out on someone, especially if that someone was the cause of all his misfortunes.

"It's a great day to be a thief, Ichi," the man passed Ichigo a smirk.

Ichigo snorted and was about to say some rude, sarcastic comment when the body he was holding moved. The teen looked down as the man stirred.

Apparently, Grimmjow noticed this too, and much to Ichigo's horror, the teal-haired man abandoned the body immediately. The victim's head and shoulder sadly crashed to the ground, taking Ichigo's arm with him from the sudden halt. Ichigo let go of the legs instinctively from the pull and the rest of the man's body smashed down. Grimmjow simply stopped and turned to look at the pitiable form on the ground.

"Good, you're awake," Grimmjow commented. "Now, run for yourself."

Ichigo gaped at the remark. A groaned came from the fallen man and he managed to sit up after a few lurches.

"The _hell_, Grimmjow?" the voice perked up. "Argh…did I hit my head on something?"

"Yeah, my fist, now get up. We're on the run," Grimmjow snapped.

Through all this, Ichigo could only blink stupidly. "You…you know each other?" Ichigo croaked out.

The man looked up at the foreign voice and stared at the orange-haired teen. "Hmm? Grimmjow, who is this?"

The blaring sirens came closer, and Grimmjow frowned. "Not. Now."

His tone was hard, leaving no room for argument. The man on the ground winced at it, getting up quickly and brushed the dirt off his pants.

And they were running again.

"You called Ulqui!?" Ichigo heard Grimmjow demanded furiously. He noticed it wasn't directed at him. The man from before shrugged.

"He was bored, though he didn't quite show it."

"He _never_ shows anything," Grimmjow scoffed.

"Anyway," the man continued, disregarding Grimmjow's comment. "He wanted to follow, but he said he didn't want to leave the apartment to the 'incompetent fools'. He called me before we enter the last store."

"Don't answer!"

"I didn't really say anything," the man exclaimed in a tiresome manner. "He hung up before I even said 'Goodbye'. I think I heard some kind of alarm bell coming from the phone."

Grimmjow was the first to put two to two. "That bastard _followed _us."

"Perhaps," the man kept his run in a steady pace. "Oh, and Ulquiorra told me something about the guys starting a bet on how long it would take for us to run into trouble…"

"They're dead," Grimmjow mumbled before turning to face the forgotten orange-haired teen. "Hey."

Ichigo acknowledged the call grudgingly, still mad from today's event. It would seem that as Grimmjow was having his conversation, Ichigo was mulling over the incidents he encountered so far. His opinion of them wasn't good.

"Ichi, I want you to listen to me on this one, k?" Grimmjow exclaimed and searched for the confirmation he needed in the teen's expression. Apparently, Ichigo was going to give him a hard time.

"What, why?"

Grimmjow growled. "This is hardly the time to _not_ be cooperating!"

"Cooperating _how_?"

"Just," Grimmjow started. "Just, jump into the car, okay?"

Before Ichigo could say anything else, a squeaking sound of tires sliding across the cement ground echoed through out the alleyway they were in. Ichigo saw a black car coming his way, the driver seeming to be ramming the gas on full speed. Just when he thought it was going to crash from the insane momentum, combined with newton's fucking second law of motion, the dark-colored Audi skidded to a stop and drifted, ceasing sideways expertly.

Grimmjow opened the door without another word and pulled the disagreeing teen in after him. The man that was with them took the front. Without any formality, the car swished out and when the cops finally got there, it was already gone.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus. I didn't have time to upload and you would probably wonder why and perhaps surmise that it's writer's block. The answer's no, I have more than 5 chapters done already (please don't kill me) but I am too occupied (lazy ass) to upload each chapter. I am very sorry (cower in shame). The next one will be uploaded very soon, I promise, tata!


	4. It all went downhill after that

_**Chapter 3: #%$...It all went downhill after that.**_

There were many things in Ichigo's life that he would like to experience before he died. He would like to see the Northern Light and would want to travel to another country, like France and China. He would even go as far as to say Antarctica and no, he was not crazy.

This thought ran through Ichigo's mind as another car hissed pass, nearly leaving a mark on the black vehicle he was currently, unwillingly in. He had to admit _this_ was not something he would like to add to his bucket list.

Ichigo also once wondered how he was going to die and some might say that he had depth. Growing old and bald was the dullest, but it was at least agreeable.

Dying in a car accident, however, was not something he would like to go through and it sounded hardly appealing. But now, he was stuck in a speeding four-wheeler and hanging on for dear life.

"Calm down, you idiot," Grimmjow tried to fight the urge of smacking the teen senseless. God, the orange head could bitch. But then, he wasn't the one to complain either; Ulquiorra's driving terrified him. He knew from many years of experience that it was safe, he was not going to die, but it was more than probable that people who entered Ulquiorra's car were bound to take injuries home. "But seriously, Ulqui. Slow. Down." Grimmjow tried to convince himself that he was doing this for Ichigo and not for the health of his gall bladder.

"Grimmjow, I have _never_, in this life, _hated_ anyone so much that I feel that death is too good for them," Ichigo muttered odiously. "That would be you, by the way."

Grimmjow scoffed, "Well, the feeling's mutual. Now—." Grimmjow's head smacked into the window and it cut him off. He grumbled to Ulquiorra to 'watch it' but it was simply ignored by the other. He continued, "Now, for introductions. Ichigo, Stark. Stark, Ichigo. Ichigo, Ulquiorra. Ulqui, Ichigo."

It was informal. Grimmjow's hand was still clutching at the bump on his head while he used the other to point the guys out respectively for the teen.

Stark lifted his hand and glanced back in acknowledgement to Ichigo's presence, and although Ulquiorra's eyes was set intently on the road, when Ichigo said "hi", he still gave a curt nod, and glared ahead as a drunken man tried to cross the street. Ichigo wouldn't have any doubts that the green-eyed man named Ulquiorra, would run him over judging from his grim expression. But much to the teen's relief and Ulquiorra's resentment, he slowed down, paused for the man to clear out, and then slammed his foot down on the gas again, leaving the other three passengers in the car to lean back firmly so they wouldn't crash through the front window.

"I would continue, seeing that there's nothing better to do," Grimmjow began angrily—with a bit of dizziness blended in. "…but no one here would like that, so sit still and shut yer trap, Ichigo." He paused, before adding. "And Ulquiorra, you slow the fuck down, man."

The driver never did hear Grimmjow's stipulation as he zoomed passed a yellow light.

"So, amuse me, Grimmjow," Ulqiourra, who was quiet the entire first half of the trip, decided to speak up when he hit a red light. Ichigo really didn't know why the man bothered to stop, considering how many he had just passed by nonchalantly. "_How _was your day so far?"

Grimmjow's eyebrow lifted in suspicion at Ulquiorra's tone. It seemed he had already caught on the true meaning and decided to ask, "Who won?"

"Szayel," came the reply.

"WHAT?!"

Grimmjow was steaming. Ichigo noticed how his eyes became narrower, though his lips were pulled in to a mocking half-smirk on the right side. All in all, it was a funny sight.

"What did he say?!" Grimmjow demanded. Ulquiorra shrugged and shifted his eyes away. He was laughing on the inside, but no emotion could be seen on that pale, stoic face.

"2 hours after leaving, I presume," Ulquiorra said. "It was the closest. Nnoitra called on 1 hour."

Grimmjow seemed to ponder on this when the streetlight changed to green. Ulquiorra lifted his foot off the break and stepped on another pedal, starting the car's movement once again. "Did you bet?"

There was a pause. "…Yes."

"What did _you_ say?"

"T-minus 300 seconds."

"That's fuckin' 5 minutes, you bastard!" Grimmjow kicked at the driver's seat. Ulquiorra merely tsked at the annoyance.

The teen behind with Grimmjow was a bit glad to be left alone for once to look for peace. Ichigo noted that there was no third voice, and took the risk of leaning forward despite the 90 km speed—and increasing—shown on the meter. It seemed Stark had fallen asleep, which sparked a question that had been bothering at the back of his mind quite awhile.

"Hey, Grimm," Ichigo muttered. He caught Ulquiorra's eyebrow lifting slightly when he uttered the nickname—it was just easier to say, ok? Nothing else. "Back in the music store, what were you trying to _do_ to your friend?"

"Friend?" Grimmjow questioned. Then he looked at Stark and grasped the idea. "Oh…him…He was leaning behind a counter and snoozing away on me. I got annoyed and tried to shake him awake." He clicked his tongue before staring at the teen. "Why'd you ask?"

"Nothing. Just that…" Ichigo hesitated on answering. "It looked more like you were trying to rob the guy or something and knocked him unconscious…until you saw me…and the cop saw us…it all went downhill after that…" Ichigo knew Grimmjow understood the rest of the story.

The man blinked back before laughing hysterically.

"Alright, that's fair," Grimmjow snickered. "I was never good at leaving a great first impression; 'guess the second one was bound to be worse. You were horrified weren't you, kid?"

Ichigo scowled. "NO," he snapped. "Was just thinking of calling the cops but—."

"_Oh yeah_, that reminds me," Grimmjow cut the teen off. "Why _didn't_ you? You had the chance. You know, I wasn't really expecting you to come inside anyway when I tried to get you to." His grin shifted upward.

"You were _right_," Ichigo mumbled grudgingly.

Grimmjow's face dropped, suddenly confused. "Huh?" He didn't anticipate that kind of response from the orange-haired teen.

"I _can't_ call the cops," explained Ichigo when Grimmjow didn't get the drift.

"Yeah?"

"I call them, and the first person they're going to arrest is probably going to be me."

Ichigo wasn't appreciating the smug look Grimmjow was giving him after a moment of silence.

"Don't say it—."

"Told ya so," Grimmjow spoke up haughtily, and Ichigo growled at him. In front, Ulquiorra boringly glanced at the rearview mirror and saw something similar to that of a catfight.

"Stop acting like a kid, you blue-haired asshole!"

"I TOLD you! If I thought you were the guy, the police are sure as hell going to think so too!"

"Stop that," Ulquiorra exclaimed. His voice seemed to be drowned out from all the loud arguing and he suddenly envied the man riding shotgun to still be sleeping through it. The green-eyed man turned at a corner abruptly to prove his point. It nearly tipped the car over.

Ichigo and Grimmjow slid to one side pathetically and found themselves in a very uncompromising situation. Their faces were just about to touch each other and Ichigo was the first to blushed, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden, before taking in a gulp of air and tried to push the man away. Grimmjow wasn't about to be negotiable. The man grinned when he saw how uncomfortable the teen was by their close proximity. He leaned over and the smirk widen.

"What's wrong?" He asked innocently. Grimmjow was far from being just that.

"Get off," Ichigo was set to get to the point. This only put Grimmjow to more amusement and he leaned in even more. "You bastard, I'm gonna punch you in the eye if you don't move away."

"Can you now?" Grimmjow moved to grab at the teen's arm and Ichigo was instantly alarmed. A tired voice asserted its irritation and saved him.

"Grimmjow, let the boy go…" came from the front. The man who said those words seemed sleepy and Ichigo could only conclude it to be Stark. The front seat shifted slightly like the occupant was moving about, trying to find the right spot to doze off. "If you start anything back there…I'm gonna be mad…"

Grimmjow clicked his tongue but moved back to let the orange-haired teen up. Despite his muttering about 'ruining his fun', Grimmjow listened to the older man, and waited until he heard a light snoring before budging to lean on the windowpane, jaded and bored. Ichigo quickly got up and slipped to the other side to stare out at the buildings and lampposts passing by. He felt Grimmjow's stare on his back and turned out of view more so than before to hide his still heating face.

"Grimmjow."

The voice didn't come from Ichigo as Grimmjow had expected, so he lifted his head and glanced ahead boringly. Ulquiorra still had his eyes on the passing street signs, but his mouth moved according to his thoughts.

"You think this would be a good time to explain the boy?" he asked boldly. "Because I refuse to go back until you do so. The others would agree."

If Ichigo didn't notice before, it would seem that he did now. The car was simply going around in circles, and at first, he thought that it was just bad memory/ déjà vu that made him see the same stores twice or thrice. But now it was a whole different matter all together as Ulquiorra imperturbably made another identical turn at the unchanged flower shop.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes at the green-eyed one's pessimism. "Look, the kid's fine. This is the second time I met him and—." The man squinted at a realization. "And _you_ gave me wrong information!"

Ulquiorra appeared to be affected by the words. "_Information?_" he uttered, clearly insulted. "Impossible."

"We were supposed to look out for that _freak_! You said to watch him because, and I quote, 'going to bring ruin to us all by his uncaring _playfulness_ and craving of happiness from other's expenses.' This kind of crap isn't _worth_ looking out for!"

"That was Szayel's," Ulquiorra muttered. "…and continue what you're saying because I am still not comprehending how this is anywhere near my fault." He was irritated by Grimmjow's blame and the teal-haired man's never ending anger was affecting him like never before. The same pink flowers decorations hanging from the store's wall were not any help to calm his emotions down.

Grimmjow heaved in and sighed. "The picture you gave me—."

"So you won't bring anymore trouble back to our home—yes, I remember that much."

Grimmjow paused to recollect his thoughts while storing the incoming red storm for later use. "_Yes_…" he grinded out. "And THIS." He grabbed Ichigo's arm and dragged the boy out from the corner. "IS HIM."

Ulquiorra had to turn his head this time to watch the teen's face clearly. As if not believing himself, he leaned back just a fraction to take in Ichigo's scowling face. "Yes, indeed," Ulquiorra's calm exterior started to crack and his seemingly impervious eyes started to narrow down at the new fact that was forcibly shove at him. "So why, _pray tell_, is he HERE?"

"Because it's not…_him_." Grimmjow was confusing himself, too, trying to explain to this man, and he knew it.

"On whose words?"

"_HIS_."

"Are you TRYING to make me even more irritated than I already am?" Ulquiorra questioned. His smooth black hair grew to look threatening and intense as an addition to the glaring eyes. Ichigo tried not to voice any of his opinions in favor of keeping his own life.

"I'm not lying, dude," the teal-haired murderer settled on resting his eyes on the road instead. It was quite terrifying that Ulquiorra had yet to stop the car but decided to turn his head the opposite way to the backseats.

Grimmjow's hand was ready to steal the driving wheel before anything atrocious happened; the desire to jump out right now was that much significant, more so than his priorities in life, but it was snubbed.

"_Jaegarjaques_, I _refuse_ to cooperate with your decision of taking this wanted criminal to our place," Ulquiorra stated. "This, by far, is the most idiotic thing you have ever done, _trash_."

Grimmjow growled now at the word and bore his fangs. "I don't like being called that you emo-bitch, now are you going to listen to anything I have to say?"

Ichigo's insides were churning from the pent up frustration of not being able to voice his thoughts, if not from the malicious pair that was fighting about _him_.

_Rather…they're not even asking me anything, those bastards._

Ichigo finally decided to interject before the argument turned into a blood bath, and the teen had no doubt it would be. He snarled, "I've had just about enough!"

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra both turned to the sudden interruption.

"And that's MY line, Grimmjow. If you're not gonna listen to anything I have to say, then stop the car and let me down. I never wanted to come here in the first place! I've taken care of my own this far, I'll solve my own problems. Just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo's arm in alarm when the orange head was any close to struggling to free the locks and kicking the passenger door open. Ulquiorra, only realizing that the vehicle was still moving, dully stepped on the breaks, in spite of his yet existing bitterness towards both occupants in the back.

"Hey!" Grimmjow shouted at the teen furiously, his grip loosening and he had to use his other hand as aid to hold Ichigo down. "Would you stop?!"

"Let. Me. GO!" Ichigo yelled into Grimmjow's ear to emphasize his point, much to the teal head's misfortunes. It was like he was knocked unconscious for a torturous second before his brain restarted and Grimmjow remembered what he was gripping at.

"You little, ungrateful, _bastard,_" Grimmjow snarled. "If I had known you would be this much of a trouble, I would have left you for the cops."

"I didn't ASK for your help!"

Ichigo lifted his right foot to kick at Grimmjow's stomach. The blow barely landed when Grimmjow's hand let go of his arm and twisted at the teen's ankle instead. Ichigo's winced at the pain and the teal-haired man almost let go.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Grimmjow questioned his own mind for answer to his sudden reaction to seeing the teen in pain. He found nothing logical and tsked in annoyance.

"You want me to let go? Not a chance." And it was the most vexing response that Ichigo had ever heard.

"Why? Your _buddy_ wants me to get out. _I_ want to get out. _You_ want me to leave, so what's—."

"I don't _want_ you to leave."

And that was the most_ contradicting_, _irksome,_ _and upsetting_ reply Ichigo had ever heard.

But it made him stay, even at least for awhile.

* * *

I like Ulquiorra in this, am I the only one? Am I??? :3


	5. The end justifies the means

_**Chapter 4: The end justifies the means**_

It was with great difficulty, especially in persuading Ulquiorra to stop being the harbor of pessimism and drive home—slowly was highly encouraged, but the idea didn't appear to make it through the complex maze that was Ulquiorra's head—that they arrived at Grimmjow's apartment safe and sound.

Though the owner would like to utter out 'Home, Sweet Home', it didn't seem appropriate any more when the first thing that greeted them was a flying remote crashing into a wall next to Grimmjow's head, and "Bastard, you better change back my channel!" instead of an "_Okairi-nasai_."

Grimmjow looked pissed off, as if he wasn't enough already.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

The two original occupants in the room turned towards the familiar voice, stopping their argument briefly to look at the entrance. Grimmjow was standing in the door way, face morphed into a fierce scowl that said, 'hell yeah, I ain't kidding with you assholes', eyes narrowing, and mentally counting to a thousand.

The first thing that Ichigo noticed from behind Grimmjow's huge frame was _pink_. _Bright, PINK hair_.Because, well, it was the only thing in the room that was in contrast with everything else to its very core.

"Hel~lo, Grimmjow," the _pink_-haired man drawled—Ichigo still couldn't get over it. "How was your day~?"

The body Ichigo was standing behind tensed up and he noticed how Grimmjow's hairs stood up like a cat's. He took a step backward in case the teal-haired man was going to do something rash and violent; the evil aura radiating off his back was the only signal Ichigo needed to move away.

"_Get. Out_," Grimmjow grinded through his teeth. "You and Nnoitra both."

The man didn't indicate any reaction of hearing Grimmjow in the first place. His eyes suddenly settled on Ichigo and his brows curiously rose. "Ooh, Grimmjow brought home a guest. How are you?" Precisely three, long strides were taken towards them.

"Umm…" Ichigo wasn't sure what he should say, really. So he settled on a nod and let the man decipher his reply on his own.

"Szayel Aporro Granzt. Pleasure to meet you." He extended a hand politely in greeting.

Contemplating on his choices, Ichigo decided that it was best to at least acknowledge the introduction; it was basic mannerism. However, the rude one of the group cut him off. Before the orange-haired teen could offer his hand in return, Grimmjow grabbed it and forced it down roughly.

"Grimm—."

"You do NOT want to know him."

Szayel appeared to be pouting, though failed miserably when Grimmjow glared back and mouthed the word 'fuck off' in reply.

"Hmmm…someone important? Looks like Grimmy doesn't want—."

"I'm in a _very_ bad mood today, Szayel," Grimmjow warned before the matter ran out of hand and he ended up chocking this pink idiot. Heaven knows, he didn't need to lose another companion, no matter how irritating that _companion_ was. "_Please_, get OUT."

The man sniffed. "Alright, alright. It's getting late anyway." Szayel ended up waving his hand back and forth in defeat. He sauntered towards the couch to pick up some scattering papers and shoved them into his bag, gesturing to his friend whose attention was still fixed on the screen, focus long gone from the group that had entered 5 minutes ago. "C'mon, Nnoi, we have to go."

The man didn't really bother to move, merely brushing his long, black strands away from his face. Ichigo could see that he was frowning. "I didn't recall anyone kicking me out, so why the hell do I have to leave?"

"I did, Nnoitra," Grimmjow answered before Szayel could say anything, who, Ichigo thought, probably wasn't going to compel anyone to get up anyway since he was already adjusting his glasses calmly and ambling towards Ichigo himself, smiling all the while before stopping at the door.

For a moment, Ichigo thought the man was waiting for this Nnoitra guy, but that didn't appear to be the case because he politely said 'good bye' to Ichigo—unnerving the teen as he did—and stalked off without another glance back to see if his friend was following or not.

_Wow, uncaring much?_

_Rather_, Ichigo thought, _an inner fight is about to break out_. The teen warily watched Grimmjow argued with this guy, Nnoitra, was it? And it didn't seem like the guy was going to back down like that pink hair dude. Even worse, a tornado seemed to be brewing around those two…

"The fuck! I was watching that!" was exclaimed harshly in reaction to Grimmjow turning off the TV.

The teal-haired man scowled. "Yeah, well tough. Go watch it in your own house." He pointed at the door. "_Leave_."

"You made me miss the fucking last quarter! I was betting on that damn team," Nnoitra growled angrily, gesturing in a crude manner towards the dark screen, though Grimmjow didn't even take a glance in that direction. "This isn't over, man…"

"Hell yeah, it is," Grimmjow muttered back. "Hope ya lose too. It's payback for that little gamble on my luck with calamity. What the hell, man?! 1 hour?!"

Nnoitra scoffed at the man, getting off the couch as he did, and Ichigo noticed how taller than Grimmjow he actually was. The man was practically _towering_ over him. The teen wondered how Grimmjow could brush off the intimidation from the height difference so coolly.

"Heh, 's rough estimate. Ya should have heard what Ulquiorra—."

"I HEARD. Now get out."

Grimmjow fumed. Ichigo was cackling on the inside at the memory.

Nnoitra didn't seem to care about Ichigo's presence, merely cussed at Grimmjow and shuffled out of the living room without another glance. He stopped only when noticing Stark by the door, and went back to drag him along with him, muttering something about having work to do tomorrow morning so 'your lazy ass better get the hell to up early', before slamming the door close harshly, almost crashing into Ichigo's back.

The orange-haired teen scowled at the audacity of the man. He also wondered how Stark was going with them willingly in the first place.

_Eh, Probably acquaintances. _

"We need to talk now, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra suddenly said, earning an exasperated glare from the teal head. "What are we going to do with _him_?"

Ichigo noticed the focus of the man's tone and he felt his insides boiled. "Don't talk about me as if I'm not here!"

Ulquiorra ignored the teen.

And apparently, Grimmjow disregarded Ulquiorra in return.

"Ichigo, ya don't mind sleeping over, do you?" He asked in a casual tone, though the teen was sure this tense atmosphere was far from that.

"You're asking me that now," Ichigo stated blankly. "After you already took me to god knows where and I have no idea how to get home."

It wasn't a question but Grimmjow just felt the need to emphasize things. "Yes. I'll take that as a 'yes'" It pissed Ichigo off, as well as Ulquiorra who was keeping his quiet complaints at the back of his mind next to him.

Grimmjow, like the asshole that he was, continued because according to him, _nothing unusual_ had happened. "So, Ichi, just crash on the couch, cus well, you're the guest and that's how it goes in my house, alright?" He paused to consider something, then grinning, he said, "Or do ya wanna share the bed with me?"

That earned him an object to the face. Grimmjow realized it was the remote that was initially thrown at the wall when he walked in. He cursed Nnoitra and Szayel for giving Ichigo an unnecessary weapon, even if not directly, but well, "the end justifies the means'.

"If you need anything, I'll be in my room. 'Night." Smirking, Grimmjow turned, yawning as he went, trying hard to pretend he didn't notice the blush that crept onto the teen's face. It was too fun teasing the boy.

He decided to do some more in the near future.

At the same time, Ichigo couldn't believe the bastard ultimately just _left_.

And _fucking _dumped him in the same room as Mr. _Zombie_...

_Oh, joy…_

As Ulquiorra ambled towards the kitchen, Ichigo actually feared for his life, and it was more than reasonable to when the man came back with a kitchen knife in hand.

He passed by the nervous boy calmly and sat down on the couch, opening a plastic bag that was on the coffee table. Pulling out a little white box, Ulquiorra noticed a stare on him and turned to look at Ichigo, jaded. "…Do you want some?"

Ichigo blinked curiously at the question. "What?"

"Cake; Szayel seemed to have left it for me and Grimmjow…"

While Ichigo stared stupidly at the green-eyed man, Ulquiorra had already opened the box, licking the tips of his fingers boringly after catching some stickiness from the cream outside. Ichigo couldn't help but wonder at the man's unique mood. Was he serious about that inquiry?

"Umm…" the teen decided to at least answer. "Thanks, but…I'm not that hungry—." His stomach growled in protest, and Ulquiorra kept his eyes on Ichigo as if to say 'out with the truth' or something along that line. Suddenly, the thought of _eating_ was quite appealing to the teen. "…Yeah, sure…"

Ichigo didn't have the chance to actually taste something, if not visiting a restaurant, during his walk. With the horrible encounter with that blue-haired idiot, his plan was turned upside-down completely—or rather, flip-flop a couple of times and made him dizzy—and Ichigo couldn't buy that kitchen utensil for Yuzu after all, though that was the least of his worries right now.

The offer of delicious, fluffy cake was like a temptation to snatch that opportunity when some stranger swung a piece of meat in front of one who hadn't eaten in _days_. Ichigo was wearied until his stomach went off again, deciding to screw logic and leap at food.

Wow, was he an animal or something?

Ulquiorra handed him a plate before forking a piece into his own mouth. He pondered on some matter and turned to see Ichigo wolfing down the desert before telling the teen his thoughts, a little exasperated and in doubt.

"You may take my room if you want…" Ulquiorra stated, his tone cool, eyes calm. "I'm going to be up late; I'll take the couch."

Did he hear that correctly?

"Your back," Ulquiorra exclaimed calmly when he discerned Ichigo's confused feature. "Was it hit with something?"

His back?

Ichigo tried reaching his arm back to find any anomalies. The action made his body stung a bit, but the pain was disregarded quickly in favor of _how_ Ulquiorra had known. Now that he thought about it, the injury was probably from one of the cops launching a baton at him; Ichigo didn't really notice before when he was running, but he could feel the hit connect, and now the black-and-blue bruise was probably spreading into an ugly mess that he should be alarmed about once he laid eyes on it tomorrow morning.

Ichigo glanced at the man who had already turn away, switching on the television with the remote that Grimmjow had placed on the table after Ichigo swung it at him. "Are you…sure?"

Ulquiorra merely nodded in acknowledgement and put another piece of chocolaty goodness in his mouth.

"Why?" It was a stupid question.

"Because," the green-eyed man swallowed the rest before answering, eyes still glued to the screen, though his focus didn't seem to be on the show anymore than Ichigo's. "I took a choice."

Ichigo raised a questioning brow at him. "Not to hate me?" He took a quick look at his empty plate. "About the food?"

"No." Ulquiorra turned at that. The man looked like he was going to smile, but Ichigo couldn't decide—better to keep quiet and listen. "I don't…hate you. Where did you get that from? And I'm not a child who's immature about his _snack_." Ulquiorra's orbs glowed. "I'm tired," he muttered. "So like I said, I made a choice. Grimmjow is not backing down about this case and I am not going to argue with an ill-tempered _trash_. The case is that…IF—if it is as Grimmjow said, that you are not Shirou, then I'm not going to waste any more time trying to push you away from all this." Ulquiorra placed his legs on the table casually. "It will be Grimmjow's problem. It will be _yours_. I might as well get use to a new presence."

Ulquiorra ended his words with a sigh and Ichigo was grateful. He didn't know why; he _shouldn't _be. They kidnapped him (in a ridiculous sort of way with a cliché kinda reason) but he was content about it. It was like his whole life was a bore before all this…

Ichigo looked down at the floor, thinking back on the man's proclamation. Something suddenly came to him and his interest sparked. "You said '_Shirou_'" Ichigo said. "You're talking about the one that look like me?"

Ulquiorra looked tired, like he needed sleep and Ichigo felt bad for bothering him, but the man was not above responding. "Was that new information?" he inquired.

"Well, kinda, yeah. Grimmjow didn't know about that."

Ulquiorra frowned. "Yes, he did. I told him two weeks ago after Shirou broke out of prison."

"He didn't mention it to me. The wanted poster didn't have the name either."

The man's lips tugged, grimacing. "Figured…and the police don't know, so of course his name was unknown.

Ichigo perked up then. "How did _you_ know?"

The teen seemed to have hit a nerve there. Ulquiorra's eyes were immediately on him, glaring, his green orbs blazing dangerously. "You are asking this as if you are a spy." Ulquiorra ruffled the teen by that, but didn't push at the matter that much; it was just to see Ichigo's reaction, which was what he expected: naïve, stubborn, _kid-like_. "And do not mock me, I have my sources. Many of which the police never would have known, much less _used_."

Ichigo dropped his head in an apologetic manner, though his expression was far from that; his scowl never helped much either. "Sorry…and thanks."

There was a pause. Ulquiorra's eyelids appeared to have widened a tiny fraction, a _very_ inconspicuous action which wasn't caught by the teen. The man sighed.

"You should probably go to sleep," Ulquiorra advised; Ichigo felt like it was a polite version of 'go the hell away already' and his assumption was most likely correct.

Ulquiorra changed the channel, uninterested to what was on, but anything was probably better than '_Pablo's Home cooking_'.

The man added something as an afterthought. "Before that animal starts to get annoying. He's going to be up and wandering, looking for beer some time later and that's not going to be happening today. Idiot's spending way too much of our money on trashes like himself."

Ichigo nodded but decided to ask one more time so he wouldn't make any mistake and pay for it. "So…I'll be using your room."

"Please do so before I change my mind…" Ulquiorra grumbled.

And Ichigo didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

I wanna upload all te chapters quickly here at so it can catch up to the chapters posted on lj. This might mean that the latest chapters for lj user will be coming out soon, cus I don't like to use lj cut anymore. It's annoying and time-consuming. ^^


	6. Bank Job gone wrong

_**Chapter 5: Bank Job gone wrong…**_

Ichigo awoke to a series of strange yelling and cursing.

It wasn't the best example of "good morning!" but he guessed it would have to do once he realized that he was not sleeping in his room back home.

His _sweet, safe_ room.

"Who give you permission to hit me on the head?!" A shriek came.

There was a sigh and then a monotonous tone came up. "Who give you permission to empty the last content of beer? I told you…" the voice said. Ichigo figured it was Ulquiorra. "…that you are not to touch it. We are paying a visit to _'Nippon' _today and I need you in the best of conditions, you trash."

Ichigo rubbed his eyes and winced when some kind of small object hit the outside of the bedroom door; Ulquiorra had possibly ducked out of the projectile's way.

"Whatever, _Ulqui_," Grimmjow grunted, and Ichigo could practically feel the green-eyed man bristled. "I'm hardly going to be doing the confusing crap you and Szayel are doing anyway. Not sure why I even bother going."

There was a pause while the people outside shuffled around their spots—mostly the gruffer of the two. Ichigo waited in silence.

Ulquiorra said, "Because…if you do not participate in this project, you are not getting any of its share; it's that _simple_, Grimmjow," he paused; there was a clicking sound. "Not getting any share, meaning…this set of keys right here, which I think has something to do with your Jaguar…_This_ here is going out the window, and I wonder what would happened once the company realized that their down payment's not going to be completed—."

The tone that came out of Ulquiorra's lips appeared to be the last straw when the bedroom door crashed open unceremoniously and a chair flew in to land on the floor with a loud thud, nearly scaring the shit out of the orange-haired occupant in the room who was eavesdropping on the conversation a mere second ago.

Ichigo looked up, mind fully awoke to the appearance of a fuming Grimmjow and a very irritated-looking Ulquiorra. It didn't take long for them to notice the new presence, something Ichigo was hoping wouldn't happen.

Because now, Grimmjow was grinning (that arrogant sonovabitch), and Ichigo felt suddenly underdressed and _very_ informal with his same ragged jeans he went to sleep with.

Ichigo tried his best to glare.

Grinning as always, Grimmjow clicked his tongue before greeting the teen.

"Mornin' Ichi."

The asshole then proceeded to direct his words at a very livid Ulquiorra, something that didn't aid the man's rising anger one bit, nor did it help to encourage Ichigo's wish to be left alone.

"You know Ulqui, I'll agree with ya," Grimmjow muttered. "But then Ichigo's coming too, so I'll recommend you consider adding another _person_ into the plan…or else, NONE of ya are going to get that _share_."

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

A moment of a quick, yet awkward breakfast, and some more sarcastic remarks being thrown around and they were out the door.

To Ichigo's distaste, he was dragged along with a very pleased looking Grimmjow, though the expression didn't last long; the man's obnoxious face immediately caused an argument along the way—courtesy of Ichigo for starting it since it pissed him off—until a fist fight almost occurred if Ulquiorra was not there to remind the teal-haired man of his "soon-to-be-trash XK model that the company was going to repossess if he failed to _pay attention_ to the mission".

"I still don't see what the problem is," Grimmjow grumbled, irritated. They were currently in Ulquiorra's black Audi, getting ready for something that Ichigo still had no clue of, but the teen was sure enough that it could only lead to trouble. "We could have done this by ourselves, no problem—this sort of thing is already boring. Now with those three coming, we ALL are practically _raping_ that whole building."

Ulquiorra quietly seethed when the man was done. It was already bad enough that he was _this _frustrated before a mission, after all, he barely let Grimmjow get under his skin, so why the hell was he so pissed off?

"To start with, Grimmjow, smart remarks like that are not appreciated here," the green-eyed man spoke at last. He let himself frowned. "Secondly, I'd rather have this job finished fast than have a repeat of what happened last time…"

Ulquiorra could hear a scoff from the backseat.

"It wasn't _me_ who set off that stupid fire alarm—'sides how the hell should I know that the sprinklers would go off…plus—."

"I think you should stop, Grimm," a bored voice rose. Grimmjow craned his neck to the side to be greeted by the sight of Ichigo rubbing his temples with disdain. He looked sick, but then maybe the purple shade on the teen's face was an effect from all the scowling…

"Oh? You have the _guts_ to tell me what to do now?"

"_Yes_," Ichigo grinded out contemptuously. "Because you have finally, _successfully_, forced your way into my life, and now I'm stuck with you." The teen glared at Grimmjow. "I'm telling you right now to explain to me WHERE we are going because I refuse to be pulled back and forth knowing NOTHING like before."

The teal-haired man narrowed his eyes dangerously at the demanding tone. He never took threats well. "Now look here—."

All of a sudden, he was cut off with the screech of tires. The car stopped by a lone streetlight, parking behind a silver land rover that seemed to have gone through a series of mountainous journey, but that was beside the point right now.

While Ichigo was busy surveying the buildings outside in vain attempt to recognize the street signs, perhaps in order to escape from these freaks, Grimmjow was hissing at his black-haired companion, thinking something along the line of "One of these days, I'll get ya". Because of the harsh break, Grimmjow's head had connected to the car's window…again, which the man swore to be the last time that he wouldn't do anything to the annoying driver for the injury.

"We're here," Ulquiorra ordered. "Get out."

It was such a rude command, and Grimmjow finally figured out what Ulquiorra would NEVER be able to BE in this rotten life of his: A chauffer.

Grimmjow concluded it mentally with a scowl. Ulquiorra would be a _horrible_ chauffer, or anything relating to driving for that matter, but in any case, the man's mouth was as bad as his skills.

Ichigo's confused voice was the first thing Grimmjow noticed when they were all out of the car, the doors being intentionally slammed back crudely on Grimmjow's part to get even with his green-eyed friend.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo said. "Why…Why are we at a _bank_?"

"Ichi—."

"_PLEASE_, tell me that you're not doing whatever I am thinking you are." The teen's left eye twitched in anxiety. He wasn't stupid; rather, a _kid_ could figure out that a criminal did not fare well with banks.

A victim smacked in the middle of said criminal and bank wasn't good either.

"…I'm calling the cops."

"CHILL!!" Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo's arm to wring him back into his initial spot, tsking in irritation to the teen's actions. "It's not what you think, a'ight? Just here to make some kind of _transfer_. NOT here for money," he hissed vehemently.

Ichigo had his doubts, but went along with it, trying well to hold back his disagreement. He twisted his arm out of Grimmjow's grasp and narrowed his eyes at the man.

Ulquiorra coughed behind them in a manner of moving things along. "Get going," he muttered jadedly. "I need to go meet with Szayel. You two stay in the main floor and keep an eye out for those other idiots. We do NOT need Nnoitra to make unnecessary commotion because he got impatient waiting…or searching…" Ulquiorra added before strolling off to another direction, calmly placing his hands in his pockets, and leaving Ichigo and Grimmjow near the front opening of the building.

Ichigo wondered briefly—if they were truly making a _transfer_ like Grimmjow had said—whether the need to act so suspicious was an obligatory thing.

It really wasn't…but Ichigo decided that it would be better for his health if he denied things and kept it that way.

"Let's get this over with," Grimmjow muttered, and grabbed the teen's wrist before dragging him along through the front entrance.

Before Ichigo could protest, they were already inside, with a security guard greeting them in mild interest. The black suit that Ichigo was given to wear by the two men made him blended in with the crowd, to which he was grateful about. Thinking back to the ragged, teenage clothes he normally wore however, Ichigo surmised that he would probably be thrown out right then and there before taking even two steps through the door if he were to be dressed in them. No doubt it would have given him the appearance of some punk who was just _there_ to cause trouble and rob someone.

"Like the outfit?" Grimmjow asked, amused when Ichigo was tugging and staring at the material in puzzlement. He had his buttons of his outer shirt out much like Grimmjow's and was wearing it casually rather than trying to be formal like one would be in a ball.

Ichigo lifted his head up to meet Grimmjow's gaze. "Why'd you ask?"

"Not much of a reason as making observation," Grimmjow replied. He snickered a bit, and Ichigo couldn't help but frown at the man's boldness to laugh at him. "'think that girl was checking you out, that's why." Grimmjow craned his neck back a fraction to gesture Ichigo in that certain direction.

Ichigo tried to look back. "What?"

Grimmjow had to hold back a grin. "Never mind that. 'didn't like it anyway…" Ichigo looked confused at the mumbled last part but Grimmjow played it off as if he didn't say anything. He looked at the teen again.

"Ya know, Ichi, did I ever tell ya you look good in black?" The teal-haired crook commented.

"The hell?! Are you _trying_ to make fun of me?!"

"That was a compliment, you ass." Grimmjow scoffed and turned his attention to the people around him, boringly searching out for a large set of teeth that was Nnoitra's and a bearded man who should be slumping somewhere—because Stark was just plain allergic to standing up straight.

"You're just trying to get me rile up, Grimm, don't think I don't know," Ichigo scowled, which earned him a baffled look from Grimmjow. The man first doubted that Ichigo was being an annoying brat, but then he thought about the matter and settled that the teen was just looking _too_ deep into things for his own good.

It was really, obviously, just a flattering remark, why couldn't the idiot see that? And he didn't give those out that often, too, so Grimmjow was irked to an extent that his rare, good intention was viewed as ill-mannered.

"Why is everyone so flashy anyway?" Ichigo asked, straying off, and Grimmjow had to catch up once he realized he was trailing behind.

"Are you retarded? It's _Nippon_." Grimmjow just saw Ichigo staring back, like he needed more information from him, which he did. "You heard of it?"

"Yeah?"

Grimmjow raised a brow. "What do you know of it?"

"Eh, just one of the most famous ones. Almost like a business organization rather than a bank, but anyway—heard that it usually held ALL the most expensive valuables and stuff which I think is stupid, cus well, you shouldn't put EVERYTHING at the same place. Made it easier for, you know, _you people_ to take."

…_Ouch…_

"Yes, that's…part of it." Grimmjow twitched his nose from the accusing tone Ichigo kindly directed. "The thing is, not everyone can just stroll in here and put in loans or exchanges or whatever, so I guess it's like your analogy: business organization.

If you looked further into it, I guess you can say that it's kinda like a…safe-keeping for rich bastards. Had to be $10,000 and up or some shit." Grimmjow paused and looked around once more. Where the hell were Nnoito-jerk and Sleeping Beauty? "And yeah. One of the common stereotypical ideas the security went by was appearance—that's what the outfit is for. Next was money, but I guess that was a given." Grimmjow scoffed. "Bet they taught you shit at school."

Ichigo merely glared at the arrogant bastard. "I don't pay attention to crap lessons, alright?"

Grimmjow simply chuckled. "Yeah, well…I'm gonna go talk to the counter—number 3, 'k? Just wait here and look for the people you met yesterday for me?"

It was an easy enough request, so Ichigo just nodded. Besides, he really didn't want to be waiting in that long line with only that teal-haired jerk as company.

Ichigo sat down and thought about things.

He remembered that Keigo said something about going to a concert the next Sunday or something…or was it _this_ Sunday? He scratched his head. Either way, he wasn't going.

Ichigo realized he still had to get that cooking utensil for Yuzu, which he figured now was redundant and foolish to even be thinking about.

He then remembered the day he met Grimmjow…

_"Don't think you're getting away easy. We're _definitely_ gonna meet up again."_

Ichigo remembered, and well, the bastard wasn't wrong. They did encounter each other again, though it wasn't the best of ways.

_"You don't know me, Ichi," the man lightly commented before shifting his eyes to Ichigo's face. "Want to?"_

_"See ya, Strawberry."_

The hell?!

How was the memory so vividly embarrassing? Ichigo clawed at his cheeks; His eyes widened at some kind of revelation and they narrowed instantly. Why was he _blushing_?

"Shit."

His body slid down slowly in the chair, lax and wearied. Ichigo snuck a look at Grimmjow from the crowds, seeing a teal head among the dull blacks, blondes, and brunettes, and couldn't help but frowned at the heat that was refusing to die away from his cheeks.

_Damn, that guy's too noticeable…make me want to shave off his whole head…but no, I don't want that…_

"Jeez, what am I—Ouch!"

While Ichigo was busy groaning at his muddled and confused mind, he let his head fall back, trying to clear out his thoughts; instead of going through air like he expected, the orange head connected with another on the opposite side, eliciting an annoyed curse from the person.

"Watch what ya doin', man."

Ichigo turned a bit and nodded his head down in an apologetic manner. "Sorry."

The man shifted like he was about to give Ichigo a piece of his mind, but he didn't bother to turn all the way around. His dark Gatsby cap shrouded his face with a mild shadow, and Ichigo also noticed a pair of designer glasses that covered his eyes."…'m fine. Just watch where you're stickin' that punk hair of yours next time."

Ichigo glowered. He pondered if he could make an exception and strike this guy off the chair. Look at the nerve! He said he was sorry, so couldn't he just lay off?

"I said _sorry_," Ichigo muttered, irritated. He glared and turned back to Grimmjow's direction. "Don't have to be a smart ass. It was an accident." He really didn't need this.

Ichigo heard a scoff from behind, but the man didn't say anything after, so he also stayed quiet. Obviously, he was not going to be starting a fight here.

After a few more minutes of boredom and a bored search for Nnoitra and Stark, the orange-haired teen heard the seat behind him creaked, signaling the leave of the rude man. Ichigo glanced back to take a better look since he was deprived from any other entertainment there, and the fact that the person just insulted him not long ago didn't make him any happier.

A brown coat covered the man's shoulders, comfortable and warm-looking, and the only thing Ichigo could see from the back view was a few stray locks of white that were sticking out from the cap.

_An old man?_ Ichigo wondered momentarily. _His voice sure didn't sound like one_…

"Yo, Ichi!"

The teen perked up and wandered away from his current focus when he recognized his name and the voice that came with it. He saw Grimmjow waving his arms at him from a far corner and making his way forward. Ichigo waved back and made an attempt to stand.

Suddenly, a sharp, painful noise pierced the air. And then an explosion followed without any other warning.

Hot radiation permeated throughout the whole floor, the rich flame bursting out behind a wall, now a black and red-looking hole that the dark smokes were crawling through.

Confusion rose and Ichigo looked around to see the crowds pushing at each other, rather swollen. The arguing voice immediately started to din around him in alarm, making the situation no better.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?!"

"A BOMB?! NO, I DON'T WANNA DIE."  
"I can' breath! MOVE! we have to get out!"

The commotion pushed forward, the crowds became savage, clawing at each other, rushing, running to get to the exit.

"Get out of the way—AH! Move, dammit!" the shouts continued.

Ichigo lost sight of Grimmjow in return and he searched for the familiar teal head, knowing that going with the people inside would result in nothing but injuries and he was only going to be trampled under them.

He pushed against some people to get out of the suffocating space he was in. Ichigo looked around, shoving a man out of his way. When a blurred blue whiffed pass his peripheral view, he almost missed it, and did a double take to spot a growling face of Grimmjow, cursing at a frantic man who just bumped into him harshly.

"Grimmjo—."

A blow connected to his shoulder and it whirled him to the side. The hell?! Was that a metal suit case?

With a groan, the teen scowled and turned back to where Grimmjow was

…Or should have been…

_Damn, I lost him!_

The orange-haired teen clicked his tongue in anger and glanced around hurriedly. It might have been a good idea to spare some of his attention to his surroundings than merely focusing on finding someone, because something—an elbow, he thought—slammed right into his face this time and Ichigo fell.

The teen barely dodged a foot coming straight at his head with a roll to the side. He cursed and tried to get up, using the wall as an aid. It appeared he had been shoved back to the very end of the first floor. His hand grabbed at a counter to hold his body up straight, panting and shaking his head from the fast movements and to get rid of the black that was creeping into his view.

"Damn jerk, trying to kill me…" Ichigo muttered hatefully, glancing to the side. His lids suddenly narrowed down at the scene on his right, trying to focus on a certain movement: the seam of a trench coat appearing from the smokes…

_Who…?_

The black clouds whisked around, flames still burning, the wall's materials still fracturing, coming off. Ichigo could see a smirk breaking out on the man's sideway face. He was looking around calmly, a backpack swung on his left shoulder, resting there. It wasn't until he turned that the man saw Ichigo's eyes on him, and that made him frowned.

Ichigo took a step backward instinctively at the action.

_Just…my luck, isn't it…_

As if like a puppet being pulled by strings, the stranger moved his leg too and imitated Ichigo's movements, only stepping forward instead. The man broke into a dash and caught Ichigo's wrist before the teen tried to run. He glared from behind his glasses, and Ichigo recognized the face immediately.

"You—."

"Yes, me," the man hissed, clutching the teen's wrist tighter and gave a tug. "I'm _sorry_…" He mimicked Ichigo's tone from moments ago, his lips tugging in to a sneer. "…perhaps this…_smart ass_ wanna continue our little conversation from before after all."

Ichigo opened his mouth, but a finger was forced upon it instantly before anything could be uttered out. The man grinned.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chastised in a playful manner as if reprimanding a child. "I think…it would be much better if we talk some place else. My place?" the man pulled Ichigo forward; the teen stumbled and was caught in a hug-like hold, much to his mortification. Ichigo struggled to regain his pride and freedom.

The man glanced around at the smokes; they were flowing off, disappearing. His attention was grabbed back when the orange-haired teen in his arms started to thrash, shoving himself away.

He gotta admit, the kid got a lot of strength.

"Ow…watch it," the man muttered, taking some few words from their first encounter as a joke. As Ichigo cursed and pushed, the man merely grinned and dragged the teen with him through the backdoor near the exploded wall. The black smokes and commotion played in his favor, as no one noticed, and they slipped away with close to no trouble at all.

"Let me g—."

"Shut it."

The teen growled and bit at the man's arm when he realized his hands were barely useful. It drew out a grunt but the stranger didn't flinch and didn't loosen his hold.

To an extent, Ichigo was amazed. If it had been anybody else, Ichigo was sure that he would be six feet under by now just for _touching_ him, much less_ hug_ging him. This guy was like a _freak_ for being able to hold him this long. Yes, he was calling him a freak because he couldn't get away from him. Why the hell not.

"That hurt…" the man exclaimed. They were out back in some alley way, but it wasn't as narrow as Ichigo thought. "Ya _have_ to stop doin' that or I'm going to get mad."

There it was again; that stupid, snarky voice. Ichigo scowled. "Does it LOOK like I care, THIEF?!"

"Ho. Feisty aren't cha'?" the man commented with a scoff. "And really now, thief is hardly the word to be using." He pulled Ichigo towards a vehicle parking beside some shady store; it looked like a silver minivan. He waved his hand like he was showing the orange-haired teen some kind of picture. "Depending on the situation, the _reference_ changes, wouldn't you agree? Arson, robbery, forgery; take your pick." He grinned. Ichigo couldn't get a clear view of his eyes but they seemed to be amused. "To put it more…generally, let's go with _criminal_, shall we?"

Ichigo decided to take things sarcastic. "Wow…_very different_." He struggled once more to no avail, and to make it worse, they were already right next to the van. Ichigo growled. "Maybe you should add _kidnapping_ to that list!"

The man seemed to pause for a bit, and then, shoving his free hand into his pockets and bringing out his keys, he opened the door with a small tug—it slid to the side easily—and then looked at Ichigo, calculative.

"Hmm, this is the first actually," he muttered. The man grinned and swung Ichigo inside, the teen landing on the seats uncomfortably. Ichigo immediately pushed himself back up to glare at the man blocking the doorway with his hands on each side of the rims.

Ichigo considered ramming his foot into the man's stomach and making a run for it, and he did put the plan to use. Unfortunately, it was caught immediately and was held there, much to Ichigo's chagrin.

The man continued as if he was never disturbed. "But well, there's a first time for everything," he commented, looking satisfied. "Be my first victim then."

"How about no," Ichigo growled.

"How about yes," he rebutted easily.

Ichigo groaned and tried to pull his foot back. The man held on to it a little longer to annoy the teen before letting go at the strongest tug, causing Ichigo to fall back.

The man smiled. "Ya already saw my face, _Orangey_, let's not try to expostulate." He leaned back out and returned Ichigo's scowl with a smirk.

"I could care LESS about WHAT you did, just let me go—!"

"Let's _not_." The man slid the door close quickly when he saw Ichigo making a dart forward. He reappeared from the front seat's window moments later with a grin on his face, watching the orange-haired teen huffed and glared. He felt like laughing.

"Ya know, you remind of someone," the man started to say.

Ichigo glared dangerously, getting irritated by this creep's tendency to go off topic. He frowned. "And who the fuck would that be?"

"_Me_, actually."

Ichigo scoffed at the man's audacity to compare him to himself. Was he CRAZY?! They just met and this freak was already going to La-la-land, and shoving Ichigo with him.

"What in God's name are you—"

The man's snickering cut him off. "You'll know why…"

Screams and shouts started to drift into hearing. The man glanced behind with little interest, watching as more people poured out and stood in awe, emptying the bank from its occupants. He smiled before turning back to an angry looking teen.

"Ah, time's up. Honestly though…" the man leaned more onto his rested arms, his hands swinging from the window, relaxed and unfazed from the sound of police sirens far behind him. "I was counting on more of a "Boom"—should have taken down half of the building but…hmmm…" his mouth formed something of a pout, and the man took out something from the back of his pants. Ichigo's eyes widened at the black detonator in his hand, but the man merely looked at it jadedly.

"Very disappointing…" He pressed at the button many times, nearly giving Ichigo a heart attack from the carelessness coming from the man.

The teen was hell-bent and prepared to flinch, but nothing happened. His gaze settled back on to the currently amused looking man, his smirk flashing a set of dangerous rows of white teeth at the teen.

"Nothing to be expected, of course…I told ya…" the man said, chuckling, moving back from the door to stroll to the driver's side. He pulled the handle and got in before shifting his upper body back to watch Ichigo snarled. "…_Very_ disappointing." He turned. "Try to sit back and enjoy the ride why don't cha?" The man grinned and pushed the gearshift into drive, before throwing a snide comment back.

"And stop being such a prude."

Before Ichigo could argue, the man floored the van forward, causing the teen to fall back into his seat.

Ichigo suddenly had a revelation on how he had now become a victim of amaxophobia: it was probably from Ulquiorra's crude driving that left him fearing the rough movements of cars.

Damn that green-eyed freak to hell.

* * *

A/N: Oh noessss! Ichi-kun got kidnapped. Can I be any meaner? Perhaps not, but I can definitely be lazier. I am sorry everyone, but it seems that I must pick up the pace! Please review lots and lots to give me the strength to deliver :3


	7. Mirror Image

_**Chapter 6: Mirror Image**_

It wasn't like Ichigo was angry. He was just…irritated, yeah, that's what it was. The orange-haired teen grumbled to himself bitterly, trying to calm down. From the corner of his brown orbs, he saw the man in the driver's seat glancing at the rearview mirror to look at him.

Although the shades were still blocking his eyes, Ichigo realized without any wasteful seconds that the bastard was entertained. That didn't go well with Ichigo.

"Can't take your eyes off me?" the man drawled. Ichigo narrowed his eyes and scoffed hatefully, his feet itching to just kick the back of the driver's seat so that the man might head-bang the driving wheel—Ichigo hoped for him to go into concussion.

The orange-haired teen heard a chuckle from the front and he kicked the seat after all.

"Don't do that again, Berry," the man said. He snatched his hat off unceremonious and risked a glance back once more while Ichigo bristled at the nickname; the man slowed the car down below 50 mph. " 'less you wanna crash."

Ichigo merely hmphed at the guy and pushed back into his seat, sulking, plans still running through his head on how to escape and even perhaps kick his kidnapper's ass while he was at it.

"Aren't you a little bit old to be—?"

He was cut off.

"Old?" the man spoke up. His tone appeared to bridle at the accusation. _Old?_

Ichigo blinked at the muttered curse and some snickering from the front. The first thing that he noticed when the man took off his cap was white locks of hair, as such, Ichigo immediately assumed he was dealing with some old man going into his fifties or sixties. Although now that he pondered on it, the kidnapper's body did not belong to that of an old geezer, rather, it was more like…

…Grimmjow's…no, His…_himself_.

The white-haired man snapped Ichigo out of his thoughts.

"Old, you say," he muttered, a shaking head followed like he was in disbelief. "Very presumptuous, brat. Is it my voice?" he asked, sarcasm ran all over his strange, distorted-sounding words.

"Is it my actions?" The man shifted his gear drastically, his foot rising from the gas to the break in one fluid motion. The van stopped in front of a tall, dark building, very similar looking to an apartment.

The man turned his body around and stared Ichigo in the eyes. His expression was pulled into a serious frown. "My white hair?"

Ichigo kept his scowl, but he could feel it faltering against the dangerous gleam behind the black sunglasses.

The man suddenly smirked. "I'm assuming I don't have ta imagine what your reaction would be when it comes to my eyes…"

And he took off his dark shades.

"The name's Shirou."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!"

Grimmjow was more than pissed off, homicidal even, and his targets were decided.

The group was back at Ulquiorra's and Grimmjow's place, the former currently staring at a blue computer screen, while the latter paced around, fuming, seething.

After the bank explosion, the men were already annoyed as it was that their job was douched up and the result was crap: they got no "income"—they could have gotten the money easily with the commotion brewing around, but then it would be like eating leftovers from a dish that had already been consumed by someone else, meaning, someone got to their goal first, and that just didn't fly with Grimmjow, nor anyone else in his group.

To make the matter worse, Kurosaki Ichigo was nowhere to be found. He doubted that the orange-haired teen was stupid enough to be stuck inside with the blazing fire, but Grimmjow was quite concerned nonetheless at the boy's well being.

Ulquiorra wasn't any less troubled by the teen's disappearance. With his companions' safety in mind, it was obvious that Ulquiorra already had myriads of numerous suspicions and resolves clouding his thoughts, as he browsed through the web for a certain subject that might lead them out of any problems they might come across with this mission failure.

Reluctantly, once their search for the orange-haired teen resulted naught, the group drove back to consider their situation. Partly because of their knowledge of a new enemy in the territory. Mostly because of Grimmjow's resistant in letting Ichigo's presence go undiscovered.

In the end, Grimmjow turned his irritation on the two members of Szayel's group that they were supposed to meet up with at the bank.

"I have enough of these shits from you guys! It has always, ALWAYS been like this. Stop screwing up our lives," Grimmjow bellowed. He furiously grabbed something from the table and hauled it in Nnoitra's direction, which the man in the further corner of the room dodged from with utter disdain. "And NOW Ichi's missing because of you bastards!"

"This ain't got anythin' to do with me." Nnoitra grimaced, clenching his fist. His eyes rivaled that of Grimmjow's in killing intent. "If you had the time to complain about us, why not keep a good leash on that _toy_ of yours!"  
That did it.

"I'll torture ya…"Grimmjow muttered. An unusual grin suddenly appeared on his face. "I'll gut ya alive and pull out all those snarky teeth of yours until you cry in pain and regret."

At Nnoitra's growl, the two mad men lunged at each other, Stark and Szayel grabbing at them in order to render their violent movements useless. Grimmjow nearly clawed at Nnoitra's throat, but Stark quickly pulled the teal-haired man back. The closely avoided attack caused Nnoitra to struggle, Szayel almost losing his grip when the long-

Curses and insults roared haired man attempted to pull Grimmjow's collar forward to get a punch at him. through the room, clattering of broken glasses, violent remarks and grunts followed.

The conflict didn't appear to be possible to end. It was all Szayel and Stark could do to hold the two strongest members of the group back, trying in return to keep themselves from getting injured in the process when Grimmjow and Nnoitra both tried to attack them to be released from their captivity.

"STARK! You're next, so you better let me go send that bastard to hell!" Grimmjow swung his arm roughly forward to wring Stark's hand off, but the man's grip tightened around him. Stark frowned at the resistant.

"Get your bloody hands off me, SZAYEL!!" Nnoitra barked from the other side of the room. He kicked back, as the man behind side-stepped into safety.

It was Ulquiorra who ended it.

The 2 knives that were suddenly thrown in the middle of the brawl pulled enough of everyone's attention to listen to the green-eyed man's smooth comment, hesitation and confusion rose to their faces.

It was _Ulquiorra _who ended it.

It was rare.

It was _scary_.

"If you two are intent on killing each other, pick the knives up and finish it," Ulquiorra said in the most dangerous of tone that bore no room for jokes. "I am irked by your inability to control your immature anger, and I most certainly had enough of this _bullshit_." The curse coming from Ulquiorra's pale lips surprised Grimmjow enough for his tense form to turn lax. Grimmjow had been living with Ulquiorra's for god knows how many years, and not ONCE did he hear the green-eyed man _cuss_.

Insults, maybe. Calling them trash, perhaps (too much). But _never_ trash-talked…

Ulquiorra's glassy orbs blazed in anger. "If amicicides help this matter in the least, then please, be my guest. Go ahead and proceed to decapitate yourselves. I hardly care." He stared into each group member's eyes, and when it reached Grimmjow, the man's brows furrowed down. "No? Then stop this nonsense and start using whatever brain cells you have left to solve the problems at hand."

Ulquiorra's focus went back to his computer almost immediately afterwards.

No words were shared for the next couple of minutes and silence ensued, as the two fighters glared at each other.

Quickly looking away, Grimmjow shrugged off Stark's weak hold with contempt and stalked out, slamming the door after him harshly to mark his leave.

Nnoitra twisted his arm out of Szayel's grip and slumped on the sofa moments later, and the others dispersed to go upon their businesses in finding their troublesome competition from the bank.

A glance at the door, and Ulquiorra's eyes were drawn back to the glowing screen once again, a sigh leaving his slightly parted lips.

_That idiot…he expects to find the boy so easily?_

Even in his thoughts, the annoyance was plain.

"Kurosaki Ichigo…"

Ulquiorra's stare lingered on the screen a couple of seconds more.

Then he tapped Enter.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"What the fuck is wrong with your eyes?!"

That was the first reaction Shirou had gotten once he bothered to reveal said objects, and well, he wasn't pleased at the insult, but there was no one to blame but himself for bringing the kid back with him anyway.

Shirou sighed and scratched at his white hair in exasperation, as he stared at Ichigo with interest.

Well, the boy was a fighter at the very least. Shirou watched Ichigo huffed and struggled against the bonds secured tightly around both of his wrists. He failed, as expected, but Shirou wasn't bored at Ichigo's antics, not like the other victims he had _tortured_ before—not quite as literally as figuratively on the usage of the word.

He grinned and the orange-haired teen scowled back.

"My eyes are fine, thank you very much," Shirou muttered in amusement. He spun the wooden chair near him around and sat in it, purposely saddling it the opposite way that normal people used to sit and using the back side of it to rest his arms on instead of his head.

He rested his pale face on his equally colorless arms, the smile never leaving his lips since. "But enough about me. How about you?"

"Go to hell."

Shirou merely snickered at the bound teen's words, observing him as Ichigo squirmed around in his seat.

Ichigo was mad, which was pretty much an understatement according to his red face. Not only did he let himself get captured by a petty criminal, but he also failed to get away numerous of times when he knew he really could have.

10 minutes ago, the two of them were in Shirou's minivan and 10 minutes later they were sitting and staring—glaring on Ichigo's part—across from each other with Shirou asking about his _life_. During that 10 minutes, Ichigo convinced himself that he could have gotten away, that the moment that albino freak opened the passenger door he was going to kick him in the gut and make a break for it. Shirou, however, predicted this and side stepped out of the way before grabbing at the teen's collar and pulled him out of the car.

When that failed, Ichigo tried other things, mainly biting and thrashing at his attacker, even if only to serve as a distraction, but to no avail. Shirou still managed to get him up 8 floors and into his apartment door, though Ichigo noticed that it did take a bit out of him too, to which he grinned in triumph, but it wasn't long-lasted.

Ichigo's been mentally scolding at himself since for his incompetence in getting away.

_And what's up with that freak's eyes?!_

Ichigo screwed his eyes shut for a few seconds to recollect his thought process. Exploding in Shirou's face would do not good, and any attempt to escape would only encourage the man's sick, twisted sense of humor.

"Is there ANY reason as to WHY you are keeping me here, you _freak_?" Ichigo asked, anger seeping through every inches, every pores of his body, and his words were practically laced with all the malice he could mustered up.

"Stop calling me a freak, you unimaginative brat." The albino waved the insult off dully. He focused his eyes on Ichigo's brown ones, and the latter found it even more intimidating than ever. "And what do you think? I'm keeping you here until I find a way to get rid of you so no trace would lead back to me."

"So you think I'm going to call the cops on you," Ichigo said.

"You will, won't you?"

"Yes."

Shirou smirked at the teen's blatant honesty. "You see my dilemma, yes?"

Ichigo scoffed at the playful drawl.

"Then why don't you kill me?" The orange-haired teen suddenly asked. It was a dangerous zone. It was a _very_ terrifying zone, yet Ichigo couldn't help but asked away his curiosity. There were obvious course of actions Shirou could have taken, myriads of them. Shooting him for example or even running him over.

Ichigo had to mull over the thoughts. Taking him back to his "hideout" was probably the worse mistake Shirou could make, so why—?  
"A good question," Shirou muttered with a small grin. He shifted his golden orbs to the ceiling as if he didn't know the answer to it himself, like he was ruminating grimly at the certain subject that just suddenly showed up in his thought process. "A _very_ good question indeed. I'm not so sure myself, _Ichigo_…perhaps, you're just in luck."

He looked back at the frowning teen, his eyes narrowed a bit and then that smirk was there again. Shifting in his seat, Shirou was surprised when Ichigo unexpectedly stuttered over a word that he just muttered out a few moments ago.

Shirou blinked "What?"

"I-Ichi—?! How…did you know my name?"

There was an awkward silence.

"Your name?"

"Ichigo, you creep, have you been—."

The orange-haired teen was cut off by a burst of laughter, and the realization that he just mistakenly gave out his name and that Shirou was oblivious about it until now was extremely humiliating.

"STRAWBERRY!! You can NOT be serious!" Shirou exclaimed in between his mirth.

"_That_ is _really_ getting old," Ichigo cussed under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he thought back on his father's useless stupidity on naming. The teen knew it had a good meaning behind those 6 letters, but as he watched Shirou clutching at his stomach and nearly falling to the floor in his fits of laughter, Ichigo just couldn't seem to remember what it was anymore.

The orange-haired teen could only suck in a breath and shouted at the albino in anger.

"Stop with the immaturity for one second, why don't you!! I'm NOT going to call the cops. I can't, for Christ's sake, even if I wanted to! Are you LISTENING to me?!"

Shirou finally stopped laughing, but now he was chuckling at the notion "And that is because?"

"Because I—." Ichigo attempted to search for the reason. "Because it was…"

The teen's voice died down, his face paling at a certain fact that he wished he didn't come across, and as Ichigo _truly_ looked at Shirou for the first time, something in his head clicked and went off, like a light switch of sort, though much more malignant in term of intensity, and Ichigo frowned at a revelation.

"I can't call the cops because they are on my trail…" Ichigo slowly explained, his eyes widened, and expression contorted in anger, to which Shirou merely blinked at in ignorance. "It's because of YOU, YOU BASTARD! I KNEW I heard that name before!!"

Shirou was aghast, and lost for words as he watched Ichigo blew up on him. Instinctively he reached for his knife in his back pocket, but didn't pull it out as he mulled over Ichigo's words, letting the teen ranted out his frustration on deaf ears.

_Heard my name, he said…_

The albino's eyes narrowed, his face turned grim in a way that would leave a few shades of gray on his pale face if that was even possible, but his facial features indeed turned gloom.

"I wonder…" he mumbled. Then Shirou tsked at the predicament he just gotten himself into. "You…you're the one that has been the scapegoat since my escape."

"So it IS you!"

"_Oh, man...how about that…"_ Shirou rubbed his face down in resignation. He knew he was interested in the kid for some reason other than them looking alike. Shirou wanted to kill himself for missing this obvious piece of the puzzle that was his curiosity in the boy during their first meeting at the bank.

He pondered over the idea of "being in deep shit" for a few seconds, pinching the bridge of his nose and ignoring the Ichigo's fuming as he did, before realizing that…

…there was no trouble.

Now that he thought about it, the only thing that he was pretty irritated about was Ichigo "stealing his thunder" and that wasn't even really the point of being a first-class criminal in the first place, not the reason for him escaping from that prison. He did it for the sheer _thrill_ of it; he always had.

Shirou slowly removed his hand from the weapon concealed in his back pocket and stared at Ichigo's narrowed eyes.

He smirked.

"I guess we started off at the wrong foot," Shirou said, treading on the subject carefully. He sat back down once he realized that amidst of all the confusion and hectic yelling he had stood up out of reflex. Shirou smiled. "Let's start again, shall we?

"The name's Shirou. It's a pleasure to meet you, _partner_."

* * *

A/N: Initially I was going to title it "Aibou" but thought better of it before it somehow turn into a japanese lesson for some people, believe me..been there done that...lol. OKOK an update from me! How was it? I think I like Ichigo's and Shirou's interaction though it could have been better...To me, it seems kinda repetitive--like from Grimmjow's encounter-- and I'm starting to get dull, but there was a point in Shirou making fun of Ichigo. I guess it was just to show how similar Grimmy and Shirou are =.= I like their relationship. COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT :3


	8. Debt must be paid, so does revenge

_**Chapter 7: Debt must be paid, revenge must be carry out… **_

"Face it, Grimmjow, that kid ran away from ya," Nnoitra said. And as much as the teal-haired man wanted to ignore the crude comment thrown at him, he was having a real hard time in dealing with it, which wasn't at all like him.

Not in the least bit.

It had been over two days since Ichigo disappeared, and Grimmjow's mood had been getting worse by the minute. He had checked Ichigo's house and nearby streets, but it seemed that the kid didn't go home. It was strange that Grimmjow would go that far to search for some teenager, but he did, and he tried not to question himself for the action, even when the wonder was there, gnawing at him like a little nuisance that it was.

While he was wallowing in his misery these past few days, sometimes the thought of betrayal flickered up, and Grimmjow forced it down again, utterly refusing to believe that Ichigo would go to the police.

Grimmjow didn't know why he trusted the boy that much; there was really no reason to. He had never been stuck in this kind of rut before, and it unnerved him more or less that this killer, this murderer named Grimmjow Jaegarjaques would be in a pathetic position such as this.

He scratched at his head furiously for the third time that day, and frankly, he was really pissing a fellow tenant off.

"Stop with the noises already for fuck's sake!! And CONGRATS, you just added a new level to the idea of 'being so damn annoying'!" Nnoitra growled and flung something at Grimmjow. The other didn't even bother to duck or flinch, even if the object had flown pass him by mere inches from his face and missed. It was to be expected, though.

These past days, Grimmjow's attitudes had been getting on everybody's nerves. Ulquiorra, included, and that was saying something. That, and after many fights with Nnoitra, the latter had apparently caught on that he was being used as the outlet for Grimnjow's anger. It was no wonder that Grimmjow picked on him rather than the others. Ulquiorra had the endurance of a friggin saint, Stark was asleep half the time, and Szayel was mostly either out or cooped up inside the office, working on whatever Grimmjow couldn't care less—the pink head had refused to give Grimmjow any information he knew regarding Ichigo, which according to Grimmjow, was plenty, and thus Grimmjow had lost interest in pursuing the irritating chump for facts.

Nnoitra, however, the rash man that he was, was exactly the perfect target.

Grimmjow noticed that the man finally realized his reason for being called names and having stuff thrown at him if nothing else, but there was nothing Nnoitra could do because, simply, his patience was nothing to brag about. Rather, the revelation had angered Nnoitra all the more, which was just fine with Grimmjow in the end.

But then lately, it appeared that the impulsive man calmed down to a degree that he would just yell at Grimmjow if he could take it no longer, rather than actually starting a fight with him like before. And whenever he threw an object towards Grimmjow, the teal-haired man noted that it was always thrown to miss.

Really, Grimmjow had to applaud the man for figuring out how to get back at him.

_Smart. I want to fight, so you're purposely trying to avoid it._

Grimmjow smirked.

_Never really last long though, Nnoi_

"You have horrible aim, you know that?"

"Shut up, the game's on."

Grimmjow's grin widened. "Oh? Like that's going to help anything."

"…What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

The teal-haired man merely shrugged. "I dunno. Just that, a little birdie sung to me about this poor debt collector who was working so _hard_ day and night, trying to get all the money he could. But there's this problem, you see. Many of these…_broke gambler_s like to avoid him." One of his eyebrows rose at the lack of movement from the other man sitting at the sofa, but as he went on he noticed how the hand on the armrest seemed to tighten around the remote with every word, and that only pleased Grimmjow all the more.

"They just can't seem to pay up, and because of this he can't do his job. And that's no good, so I feel the need to help this poor man. Being the gracious person that I am, I offer him the money." Grimmjow let out a chuckle. "And what do you know, the old bloke's face brightened so suddenly when I exclaimed that Nnoitra Jiruga had finally decided to pay his damn debts and here is the fifty—."

"YOU BASTARD, I'LL FUCKIN GUT YOU!!"

Before the remote could even reach Grimmjow and take out one of his eyeball, Nnoitra launched at him and took him down to the ground with a shout, cursing every which way as he attempted to hit his face black and blue. Grimmjow dodged many of the hits and began to land his own blows on the man atop of him, and faintly he heard footsteps came running at the commotion.

"Aww…you see, all your shouting interrupted Ulqui's and Szayel's work," Grimmjow commented lightly and bore a smirk before quickly flipping his head to the left in order to avoid a punch.

"—RIP OUT ALL YOUR BLUE FUR AND STUFF IT IN YOUR MOUTH—."

"What happened here?!"

It was Szayel. Only Szayel. Grimmjow grabbed at Nnoitra's arms to slow down the strikes and risked a glance towards the man's direction.

He noted how Stark went to get Ulquiorra and the two were now walking into the room with the foulest expression upon their face at the sight of the brawl.

"Nnoitra."

Grimmjow also noticed how Ulquiorra was purposely ignoring him

"THIS FUCKING CUR HANDED OVER _MY_ MONEY TO THOSE BASTARDS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THAT WAS?! AND THIS BASTARD GAVE EM' ALL, PRACTICALLY ALL!"

Stark had pulled him off of Grimmjow by then and Nnoitra was fuming, his anger barely being able to contain as Grimmjow wiped off a trace of blood from the corner of his lips and stood across from him, smiling at his temper.

"Technically, you're in the wrong, so I did you the favor of making you debt free, you know—."

"Be quiet, Grimmjow."

Ulquiorra glowered at the teal-haired man with the darkest of expressions. Then he took out a piece of paper and shoved it at Grimmjow's chest.

"This will be the last time I tolerate this kind of behaviors from any of you. Am I supposed to treat you like a bunch of brats?" The green eyes narrowed dangerously, and even when looking up at Grimmjow, they were as threatening as if the owner was glaring down at the man.

Ulquiorra gestured towards the papers in Grimmjow's hand hastily. "I hope those will mark the end of our problems."

"We got the location of Shirou. Apparently, he was the one at the bank, as Schiffer had guessed," Szayel explained. "The object wasn't really money; the huge explosions signify that. Shirou's hardly a genius, but he's not an amateur who likes to just swing weapons around and get himself caught either."

"He's marking his return." Ulquiorra stared at Grimmjow, who only took a small, uninterested glance at the sheets before glaring back at him. "But he's encroaching on _our_ territory. I hope you would understand this enough to put that boy out of your mind for the time being…because if you mess this up, you _know_ I will personally castrate you without hesitation."

Grimmjow tsked at the threat, but didn't push anything further. He knew that look in Ulquiorra's eyes, and it only meant that he was dead serious, which never bode well for anyone who tried to test the smaller man's fury.

Grimmjow let out a huff of irritation.

"So this shit is supposed to be the map?" Grimmjow waved the papers around and looked at Szayel for some sort of words, just to snub Ulquiorra off.

"How rude. Yes, that "shit" is the location where Shirou is."

One of Grimmjow's eyebrow rose. "So why the hell are there 5 different drawings here?"

Szayel pushed his glasses up at the inquiry and Grimmjow saw some sort of embarrassment on his face as Szayel coughed, awkward.

"Well, like I said, Shirou's no genius, but he is quite prudent—or would you prefer _sneaky_." Szayel commented when Grimmjow gave him an indifferent glare. "In any case, we will have to split up, lest we waste time going to one place then another with the whole group."

Nnoitra scoffed and shook his head. "You're so damn useless."

"I most certainly am not," Szayel responded.

Grimmjow was surreptitiously glancing at Nnoitra's way and returning his gaze on the papers. So it appeared that Nnoitra and he would have a mutual point of agreement to forget whatever had happened before. It was surprising, but appreciated.

He smirked. It was like these days the ill-tempered man whom he called Nnoitra was getting more and more lenient.

_Gotta make fun of him about that later…_

"You plan on hogging those for yourself all day?" Nnoitra growled and unceremoniously snatched the papers from Grimmjow's hands, taking him by surprise and leaving with him only one. Grimmjow scowled at the rude bastard.

"And I still have a bone to pick with you," Nnoitra added.

Grimmjow sneered back at him. "After this then." Then he turned to Ulquiorra and the others.

"So," he said. "Are we going or not?"

* * *

UPDATE!! :3 Okay, so I just remembered that I wrote chapter 8 out at school, so that made it legible for me to put this chapter up on fanfiction seeing as my backup chapter in case of WB is done. Hope you enjoyed!!


	9. All Hell Break Loose…

_**Chapter 8: All Hell Break Loose…**_

A sweet aroma wafting passed his nose made Ichigo sniff at it in both dislike and want. Ichigo shifted in his seat, awkward, and stared intently at the coffee table in front of him. His wrists were no longer tied, but he knew that if he were to make any move towards the door, the albino in the next room would instantly notice and come to retrieve him back to his seat, as he already did once or twice. In the end, Ichigo gave up and just sat patiently in waiting with a small scowl.

"You'd think that this brat had learned by now," Shirou had mumbled to himself a few hours before when the orange-haired teen had made another attempt to escape. Ichigo could have sworn that Shirou had the hearing of a dog. The man was always _there_, prepared and ready with his smirk to drag Ichigo back into the living room, it wasn't even a joke.

The orange-haired teen let out a sigh. "How much longer are you going to keep me here…?"

A head poke out from a doorway and Ichigo frowned at it. Shirou barely spared Ichigo a glance before staring back down at the silver tray in his pale hands. He balanced the heavy objects on one hand skillfully as he stirred at a cup thoughtfully.

"Quite awhile," he replied, putting the tray down on the table and raising a reproachful eyebrow at the teen. "And what did I tell you about my name?"

"Nothing that I could care for," Ichigo snorted in the man's direction. Shirou just shrugged and set the beverages down one by one, with an addition of a plate of little snacks, before giving a small, pseudo-bow.

"Bon Appetite, my dear _aibou_."

"Why do you insist on calling me that?" Ichigo scowled at Shirou's smile. The man's amused face was irritation inducing, and Ichigo found that he was going to have a hard time keeping his fists to himself whenever Shirou grin ear-to-ear, which was, practically, always one time more than the last.

It was like he could make a new drinking game with it and the rule would simply be "Hey! Drink every time this freak smirks!" and ultimately every participant in the room would end up drunk and passed out in close to no time at all.

"Well," Shirou muttered and handed Ichigo a cup of coffee, to which the orange-haired teen merely stared at with something close to revulsion. "You don't call me by my name either. I see no reason _not_ to do the same."

Ichigo opened his mouth to reply, and Shirou took the chance to shove a small piece of pastry in. He laughed when Ichigo nearly choke and had to drown the stuff down with the coffee Shirou offered him before.

"You—!"

"Shouldn't talk with your mouth full."

"—bastard '_Shirou_'."

The albino man smiled. "That's close enough…and you know, I was wondering…"

As Ichigo glared at the man with anger, a few tears blurring his eyes from the near-death experience, Shirou ambled to an armchair and flopped down on it.

"I was wondering," he continued, "What was a kid like you doing at that good-for-nothin' bank anyway. You weren't doing anything particularly special except sitting there—disturbing my peace, by the way—and besides all that, Nippon is _definitely_ not a place for someone like you."

Shirou paused in thought. "You were waiting for someone, is that it?"

Ichigo's annoyance flared. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm not _rich _or _important _enough? Yeah, right, I thought Nippon was—."

"You_ thought_ it was," Shirou repeated with a scoff. "Nippon _sucks_. In all reality, it's just this "luxurious" counterfeit factory and all these other pathetic excuse of a "crime production crew." Cowards!"

Ichigo cleared his throat again and coughed; there was still something bothering his throat. "Yes, I've been told, if you could just let me finish talking! And it's not like you're any better."

"But I'm a simple man, Ichi," Shirou said, "I don't go around lying to the whole world. If you think about it, wouldn't the priority in crime be placed on those company owners? What I do is like child's play compare to what they do everyday."

Shirou raised an eyebrow in thought and stared up at the ceiling, as if he could find something written on there that he had forgotten. "Technically…I steal and I use the money, so it's like I'm giving back the money to the community…" Shirou wiggled his eyebrows at Ichigo. "Technically…"

"What are you, Robin Hood?"

Shirou laughed at the notion of it. "Hardly." He looked back at the orange-haired teen. "And you didn't answer my question."

"Question?" Ichigo repeated.

"You. The Bank. You were waiting for someone?"

Ichigo paused and observed the albino tentatively, wondering at the man's interest in such matter. He scratched at his cheek. "You can say that."

With a short pause, Ichigo sucked in a breath through his teeth at a sudden thought. "Damn…that guy's gonna hunt me down for disappearing on him."

"So you were with _a_ _guy_."

Ichigo nodded grimly at him, failing to notice a little pout making its appearance on Shirou's face at his response.

Ichigo's lips twitched. _Grimmjow_. Considering his aggressive attitude, Ichigo could just imagine him fuming right now. It wasn't a nice sight.

The teen tsked at the thought. What did he care about that guy anyway?!

A hand suddenly landed on his shoulder and Ichigo jumped at it, which elicited a laugh from the man next to him. Shirou grinned when Ichigo slapped his fingers away in disgust as if his skin was infected by some unfathomable disease and Shirou was going to pass it on to him.

"Why can't you just stay in jail!?" Ichigo screamed at Shirou, and tried to scoot further away from him in his seat.

"Who the hell in their right mind would?" Shirou looked at Ichigo like he was an idiot. He then brushed the question off, replacing it with a yawn instead. "That place's a shithole. I'm obviously gonna get outta there the first chance I got."

The orange-haired teen shook his head and grumbled to himself with utmost irritation. He never thought he could feel such migraine from dealing with only one person.

"Really…" Ichigo grumbled, irked and a bit exasperated at everything concerning this situation he was in. His mind revolved back to a scowling face and he pictured himself winning against a certain blue-haired man. He couldn't.

Ichigo glanced at Shirou warily. "I swear, you're just like Grimmjow."

"Grimmjow?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes at the repetition from the albino. "_Yes_, the bastard I was waiting for at Nippon who is going to kill me if he—."

"Grimmjow _Jaegarjaques_?"

When Ichigo saw the smile dropped from Shirou's face, he knew something was wrong. Terribly wrong when Shirou's brows furrowed down and he let out a hiss.

"Tell me something, Ichigo," Shirou muttered dangerously, containing his fury that was threatening to tip out with such precaution that Ichigo could see the sudden change in his expression. Shirou tried hard not to narrow his eyes.

"Is this…_friend_ of yours," Shirou continued, "happens to have blue hair, and a personality of an utter, annoying, narcissistic _prick_?"

"Ummm…" Ichigo winced at the tone and clammed his lips shut, retreating into his panic thoughts to find some kind of answer for the albino in a hurry. "No?"

Shirou turned around and passed a hand over his face, tired and in attempt to be as calm as he could be. He kept his stare on the floor.

"Ichi, Ichi, Ichi, why must trouble follow you so…?" Shirou murmured with a sigh, turning to smile at the teen; it was gone as fast it came. "You wanna hear a secret?"

"Not particularly," Ichigo replied, cagey.

Shirou let out a chuckle. "Well, it'll do you good to know this anyway. You see, there's a problem—_always_ a problem—and apparently, as far as I can discern, Grimmjow has taken a liking to ya."

Ichigo stood up scowling at that, but Shirou raised a hand to silence him. The orange-haired teen had no qualms to obey just for this once, with the smirk that Shirou was tossing at him.

"That," Shirou pointed out, "does not go well with me. Knowing Jaegarjaques and Schiffer, if they're still together, it's not gonna be long 'till they find me, and consequently, _you_." Shirou made a face at the idea. "After that, it's pretty obvious that Grimmjow's gonna kill me."

Ichigo scoffed. "Well, you pick the wrong day to make such commotion at the same place they were in. So, yeah…"

Shirou couldn't help but smile at the teen's naivety. It was cute. He really hadn't made a bad choice to take Ichigo with him. The boy was an enigma.

"Yeah, about that…Sorry to dash your theory down, but Grimmjow wouldn't get so worked up over something so trivial like that," Shirou explained, his golden orbs glinting. "YOU, though, if he knows _you_ are here…"

Shirou cast Ichigo a cynical grin. "Hell's gonna break loose."

* * *

A/N: lol, adorable Shirou is adorable. Confused yet? probably not, honestly I'm still making this up as I go cus after school ended this year, the plot just sort of disappeared from my mind, and if it didn't I wasn't that content with it anyway, so sorry for the late update. I'm trying hard, I really am, switching from summer assignments to tennis practice to my free time to trying to have some of the writer's block lifted because I need to update soon lest I feel the wrath of you readers' impatience. *Sigh* and now summer's almost over. Sorry for the little rant but yeah....I'm gonna be having a busy busy year coming soon and I'm just not ready to embrace that fact yet (Why not give me some reviews to cheer me up, lol) Hope you enjoyed!


	10. Lost?

_**Chapter 9: Lost?**_

They were a bit off schedule.

Grimmjow, a man whose patience already left much to be desired, wasn't pleased with being off schedule. It wasn't _a bit_ like Szayel had told him over the intercom, and the tone in which the man had used towards Grimmjow to calm him down actually brought even more malice into the latter's veins.

The maps that Szayel had given the group had led them in total, opposite directions of each other. Grimmjow was pretty fine with the fact that he didn't have to go the same way as Nnoitra, whose feelings were probably as mutual as his, but when he found out that Szayel hit a dead-end and Stark ended up at someone's house that was in no way related to Shirou's location, he began to fume extensively.

"Now, now, Grimmjow, I said that _one_ of these maps will give us the correct answer," Szayel commented through Grimmjow's earpiece when he heard the man growled quite menacingly at him. He smiled at the emptiness of the warehouse he was in. "So, I guess, mine is down?"

"No shit. You just told me you landed yourself in somewhere useless!!" Grimmjow scowled. He didn't reach his destination yet, and as the blue-haired man glance at the map once more, he found that he wanted to just scrunch the piece of paper up and shoot it into the nearby trashcan. _Screw the junk; I'll go based on my gut instinct. _

But despite that pleasant thought, Grimmjow decided against it. He had enough common sense to understand that his horrible sense of direction was nothing to be disregarded so casually. He groaned at the impediment and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm almost there," said Grimmjow, _'I think,'_ went unsaid.

"Well that's good…" returned Szayel. A rather hesitant and pregnant pause left Grimmjow narrowing his eyes, but he held his tongue anyway.

He was turning a corner when Szayel spoke up again.

"Because you're sort of our last piece of luck…"

"What?"

Another long pause.

"Umm…I just talked with the others…and—let's just say that…your "path" is the right path."

"Are you saying everybody else achieved shit?!? I mean I get Nnoitra, but _Ulquiorra_, what about him!?"

"Uh, yeah…_nada_."

Grimmjow almost got hit by a car when he crossed the street. He gave the finger at whoever it was and ran through an ally with a prominent scowl on his face, scaring a black cat out of its peaceful sleep on a trash can when he kicked the nearby ones in anger.

Grimmjow listened to the explanation Szayel had to give with less than amusing enthusiasm.

Apparently, in addition to the pink-haired freak and the lazy good-for-nothing whose name was Stark, Nnoitra had ended up in some gay, strip club in the far North of town, and although that was a very promising subject to tease him about when they all meet up, Grimmjow had to bit back a snarl when he heard that they couldn't get in contact with Ulquiorra.

"What do you mean, 'can't get in contact'?" Grimmjow had nearly screamed at Szayel for relaying that kind of bullshit message to him.

Szayel checked his ears a couple of times before replying back. "I don't know, Grimmjow, but what I'm sure of is that you need to get there fast and hold off Shirou until we get there. He _should_ be there. He has to be. That's the only lead we have left of him."

"Well, you better be right."

Grimmjow cut off the conversation as he stepped into the building. He looked around. It should be the right place.

_It better be…_

He looked at the map of the building on the bulletin board nearby and had decided that busting into every room was probably a crazy idea that would achieve disastrous results. The blue-haired man growled. Although Grimmjow hated waiting, he didn't know where to go, so he had to be subjected to the process.

As he paced around the lobby waiting for the group to meet up, Grimmjow assessed the situation briefly. For some strange reason, he didn't have quite the motivation to look for Shirou. Anything relating to that guy was like a grayish blank to him. They had worked together—scratch that—they had _tried_ to work together in the past.

It wasn't successful. It wasn't fun.

Grimmjow remembered that he had forced Ulquiorra out of the apartment one night to get him drunk so that the eerie bastard could act normal once in awhile, and also for his amusement because he had nothing better to do. Besides, who wouldn't want to see Ulquiorra drunk? It was just an opportunity that he couldn't pass up after Stark had mentioned it.

There hadn't met Szayel or Nnoitra yet three years ago (Lord bless his soul!) and the life back then required them to work together with some others that they didn't want to, mostly because it was the boss's orders.

Grimmjow frowned at the memory. His boss…_Aizen_ was one heck of a selfish tyrant. First off, he partnered him up with Ulquiorra, which he didn't quite get along with during the time. It was one hell of a job in itself to live with the green-eyed bastard and Grimmjow still thought that he should have had the right to demand extra pay for that. And then not to mention all of those near-death experiences…and then that one time that he almost got his arm lobbed off!

But that's the past. He was a free man now.

A grimace passed over Grimmjow's face for a moment. Even with all those clear reminiscences, he still couldn't remember when he had met Shirou, and it bothered him that his memory was failing now of all times.

It was a bar, wasn't it? Grimmjow blinked, as the little pieces of memory fixed themselves back together. He blinked again. Something just flew by in his mind, so he tried to reached out and grab it in hopes of recollection.

He was in a bar and…he came to a realization that Ulquiorra wasn't normal. _The bastard couldn't get drunk!_

Grimmjow shook his head. He was getting off topic in major proportions. He scratched his head a little and smoothed back his hair, sighing.

He couldn't remember Shirou.

That was just bad. It was horrible because, promptly after, Grimmjow came to a sudden revelation, which scared him to an extent. He never had to worry about anything before, but now it was just problematic.

He couldn't remember Shirou _because_ every time the face popped up, it was Ichigo's. That damn orange head _brat_, Kurosaki _Ichigo_.

"Why? _Why_? WHY? Him of all people. You have to go and look like him," Grimmjow groaned at himself. "Damn Shirou's gonna get it now once I see his face."

"I never knew that you have that huge a grudge with him, Grimmjow…"

The blue-haired man turned towards the voice immediately in recognition, and while the relief was there for a fraction of a second, it was replaced with scowl. "You're doing that again, Ulquiorra. Stop appearing out of nowhere and scaring people shitless."

The man just shrugged, green eyes dragging around the place drearily. "I apologize…?"

"Spare me the sarcasm." Grimmjow then perked up in question. "Where did you go anyway? Szayel couldn't get in contact with you."

Ulquiorra slipped pass Grimmjow without answering the inquiry and moved right towards the stairs, his hair a bit out of place. Raising a confused eyebrow at this, Grimmjow followed and ushered on without reading the atmosphere, which earned him a glare from the shorter male.

"Grimmjow, I'm here. That's all that matters now."

Grimmjow shook his head. "Nuh-uh, you're not getting away this time without answering my question."

"What do you want from me?" Ulquiorra's brow creased, even if just a little, and Grimmjow saw the dissatisfaction on the man's face, grinning madly all the while at the cold, stoic Ulquiorra's discomfort.

"Just answer the effing question. What's hard about that?"

With a pause of consideration, Ulquiorra replied, "The map led me to an elderly shack. It was a nursing home." He glanced up to see Grimmjow's reaction.

It was hysterical, Grimmjow had to admit, and he would have laughed, make fun of the man, and let it go, had he knew that it was the truth. But the little bastard was lying. "Nice try. I ain't buying that shit."

"I can't say anything else if that's not what you're looking for, Grimmjow."

"You're lying!" Grimmjow cackled, anticipating the story even more so once he knew that his partner was going to such lengths to hide it from him. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

Suddenly a door to his right slammed opened as Ulquiorra's foot shot out at it. The poor, broken furniture was hanging loosely off its hinges, while Ulquiorra walked by without even another glance, hell-bent on searching for another piece of outlet for his anger. Grimmjow sauntered close behind with a grin after the recovery from the loud noise.

"Whatever; you still owe me an explanation," he said, then with a hint of mockery when Ulquiorra turned a corner abruptly. "You don't even know where you're going, do you?"

The green-eyed man seemed to prickle at the tone. "I do."

"Oh, really?"

"No."

And another door flew opened, this time right off the bearings, broken locks and all.

* * *

A/N: Well, now, it turns out that I found time to update after all, and especially after a sudden plot rush. This and the upcoming chapter that I'm not going to post until I get the next _next_ chapter done practically wrote itself, really. I'm happy that I was able to update this fast, and happy that you guys will be able to read it too, cus that's really just the contentment for the writer when she know that the readers are enjoying her stories :3 It's short, but I hope you enjoy this fast update!


	11. Time of Death…Very Soon

A/N: Uhhh, so yeah....a bit embarrassed actually for going AWOL for 4-5 months without any contact whatsoever. I am so sorry readers :( Kia here apologize!! And more so because I definitely did not see that there was a chapter that was already finished and was just waiting to be upload. I did nothing and made you guys wait unreasonably T-T Anyway, so yeah, you know my policy that I need to have one extra chapter finished before uploading in case of writer's block and everything.

Here's the latest chapter, and I'm going to stop talking now :) ENJOY

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_**Chapter 10: Time of Death…Very Soon**_

Ichigo had been intending to ask about Shirou's acquaintances with Grimmjow and Ulquiorra, but didn't quite have the chance to. The moment that the albino finished his vague rambling on how annoying Grimmjow was, Ichigo had learned a couple of imaginative names for the blue-haired man, and the one little fact that they had once work together in the same organization.

Shirou said that he had stayed in the Hueco Mundo group for awhile because he had thought it to be beneficial to him, since he was on the blacklist for some sort of project at the time and had to find a way to get pass it. It was all confusing babble to Ichigo's ears, so the only part he had made out was that Shirou and Grimmjow never really came to good terms with each other since then.

"So, that's how it is, Ichi," Shirou exclaimed with a smile.

That didn't explain anything, Ichigo thought. "The only thing I picked up was that you hate him; I didn't even catch the reason."

"Oh, no, no I don't _hate _him. It's just…" Shirou paused to reiterate. It only took a mere moment, but nothing changed. "Yeah, I actually do. But never mind that, I hate a lot of people." Shirou rotated his hand around with a flick of his wrist in between the silences, as if he was trying to find the right explanation. "It gets confusing after awhile. I gave up trying to sort through my emotions and stuff in encounters with others. The thing is, in this kind of business, I'm not going to see the people I meet more than once or twice. That's just how it is. Can't let them remember me too much to form a memory bridge or a _relationship_. You understand?"

Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorta."

"I'll usually forget the faces after a month or so, but some I remember. Grimmjow, for example," Shirou said in exasperation. "We've been on each other's nerves so much I just can't erase that pathetic excuse for a human out of my head. You know the first thing that guy did when he met me? He messed the fucking mission up and I had to stay in Hueco Mundo for two more months for the next project!"

Ichigo smiled in uncomfortable understanding. "That's not coming as a surprise to me…"

"The nerve of the bastard," Shirou continued on with irritation, his fist clenching. "I think he did it on purpose, too. The mission was going fine until he went and heard that I had wanted to proceed quietly, to _proceed_ without attracting any fucking _attention_. Then he turned and grinned. The next thing I knew he was bashing through the place. Sure we got the thing done, no prob, but the payment was reduced to almost half for the destruction he had caused. So many people had to be paid to cover the whole thing up. And damn, that isn't even the worse of it. I probably pissed him off in some way, too, but I just don't know. Two _months_ of working with that guy, we almost killed each other."

Shirou seethed. "Whatever, the memory's stuck and I can't remove it without wanting to keep it just so I can remember the shit this guy had done to me, so I'll bash his face in later. Can't really say the same thing for him though; I mean…" He looked at Ichigo. "…he's mistaken you for me. That's what I'm guessing, or else there's no way you're going to come in contact with him unless you're in the same business, too."

Ichigo nodded and made a face at the man's correct deduction. Shirou was sharp; Ichigo had to give him that. Sure, the guy was as bad as Grimmjow—if not worse—most of the time, but this was probably the reason why Ulquiorra had been on edge whenever Shirou was mention in conversations. It was as if Ulquiorra had found something that was actually troublesome for him, and that fact alone seemed to tick the ever so calm man off.

Shirou spared a glance at his watch before grimacing, getting up in a somewhat languid manner. "I should say this to clear some things up real quick before we leave…"

"_We_? What's that supposed to mean?" Ichigo didn't like the sound of it. He had made a nice situation out of the kidnapping, but things weren't going to last from the looks of Shirou's grinning face. "You're not going to lug me off somewhere again—."

"Yeah, okay, the complaints and the "I kidnap you part" whatever. Just listen to me for a sec," Shirou cut the boy off, waving his hand back and forth to brush off Ichigo's protest. He stared at the teen, pensive. A lot of things had been going through his mind lately and perhaps, at first, he thought of teasing Grimmjow for awhile using the kid, once he knew that the man might be crushing on the boy, though it was still a guess. It was an idea that went as quickly as it came, however.

Even before he knew about Ichigo's association with the blue-haired bastard that was supposed to be a pain in his ass, he had taken a liking to the teen. Ichigo was interesting, and Shirou was surprised at himself for interacting so much with him, all things going positively in his opinion, and the fact that Ichigo might just be the partner he was looking for made things all the more better.

He grinned when Ichigo frowned at the sudden quietness around them.

Or perhaps Ichigo might just be more than a partner, _much_ more, Shirou mused.

"I like you," Shirou announced.

Ichigo scowled at him. "Don't joke around. I don't care what you—."

"No, I really do. I'm not pullin' your leg, Ichi." Shirou smiled, more sincerely than he ever did.

The frown on Ichigo's face didn't go away. The orange-haired teen raised an eyebrow at the man across from him, trying to catch on to whatever trick he was plotting. "Look, if it's because I know Grimmjow, and you're trying to get back at him, then that's not going to do shit. You can't get to that bastard through me, you know…"

"Yeah, I _had_ thought about that," Shirou answered truthfully. "But that guy doesn't matter no more. I have things to settle with him, sure, but you're not something I want to steal from him just for the sake of getting him pissed off—it's a bonus though, but really, Ichigo, I'm not lying to you about this. 'Consider it?"

"Consider what?"

"Me," Shirou said, then suddenly, he questioned, "Do you like him, Ichi?"

Spluttering, Ichigo gaped at the question with a hanging mouth and almost bulged out eyes. "W-what are you asking? Going around and saying something like that—."

Shirou observed the distress boy for a minute or two in amusement as Ichigo strived to put a chain of words together to form something coherent. The albino shook his head and chuckled. "You know what, don't go crazy over it."

Ichigo stopped in his hysterics, face red with mortification as he scowled. Shirou smiled back at him.

"I don't care, you know," the albino exclaimed. "Because no matter what, I decided that I'm not gonna stop chasin' after ya until you say 'yes'."

Before Ichigo could say anything to the declaration, a loud bang came from the door, and the two heads turned towards it, curious. Shirou was about to pass the sudden thump off as some drunk falling against the walls, but then there it was again. He frowned at the crack he saw in the corner. Who the hell was breaking this place down?

There were voices coming from the other side, and both of them strained their ears to listen. Shirou caught the conversation first. It sounded awfully close to a newly wed bickering.

"You can't just kick down every fucking door you see whenever I pissed you off, ok?"

"Then do not badger me for questions."

"Well answer them then! Because I'm not stopping until I know what the fuck you ran into that would make you so hysterical like this.

"I'm not hysterical, you _trash_. I'm not even going to be saying anything if you would keep your loud mouth shut."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes when his ear picked the pieces of conversation up. The insult sounded uniquely familiar. Another bang, louder than the ones before.

"Why can't you just tell the damn story then?!"

"Why do you pry?"

"Because I'm bored! And I shouldn't be wasting my time here. I should be looking for—!"

Shirou scowled when the last thump signaled the door to be kicked open, his two locks flying off straight across the living room floor, nearly hitting the windows on the other side. The entrance to his flat was a mess.

_What the fuck?! _With a face morphing into an unpleasant grimace, Shirou stood to look at the damages done before growling as the thought of changing his fifth apartment this month shot through his mind, ripping whatever patience he had left to deal with pieces of shit that came his way.

As soon as the albino stomped a few pace to look at the two intruders with malice and give them a piece of his mind, he stopped short, blinking. Ichigo turned around in his seat.

Two pairs of eyes stared back into the room, one a glassy green and the other brilliant blue.

The ticking clock in the room was loud in the silence, its noise agitating and booming as if it were connected to some sort of an explosive device, counting down to an imminent doom.

Time of death: Very soon…

* * *

Like it? Don't like it? I am actually a bit disappointed by the length of the chapter, thought it was going to be longer. But I liked the ending, so I decided to stop it there because it's pretty fitting :) Isn't Grimmjow and Ulquiorra arguing so endearing?


	12. Further down the hill…

I just noticed something, readers; It is Mistaken first year anniversary!! lol, it just came to my attention that this story is one year-old, and yes I know, it is something lame to get excited about, but still :3 I wanted something to celebrate. Here's the next chapter for Mistaken guys!!

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_**Chapter 11: Further down the hill…**_

_He wasn't going to get along well with this guy. That was the first impression he got when he first laid his eyes on the wild locks of blue. His golden irises glinted even in the dim lights of the bar, dangerous and distrustful. _

"_The name's Shirou, I'm going to be working with you on this mission," he introduced himself. _

_The man in front of him put down a glass of whiskey on the table, tipping it back and forth like he was playing with the light, brownish liquid, rather than listening. Shirou was about to input a snide remark once he found that he was ignored, but the man threw one of his own in without even raising a glance from his beverage. _

"_Look, whatever your name is, just stay out of my way, and this is going to end easily, quick and silent." _

_The statement caught him off guard, and Shirou narrowed his eyes down at the bastard with a face near the look of disbelief, clearly upset. One of his pale eyebrow rose, as if to ask the other male to even _dare_ suggest something close to that again. _

_Shirou didn't want to say anything lest he got mad and strings of imaginative insults people had told him he possessed would be let loose in ample amount. He wouldn't be able to stop himself from being snarky, and that would ruin his first job at Hueco Mundo. Economy wasn't good lately, so he couldn't allow himself to screw his current mission up. _

_Folding his arm neatly across his chest, Shirou watched on as the man continued to clink the ices in the glass around, bored. He wasn't going to put up with this kind of attitude though, as tolerant as he was. "Well, then get your ass up already, Blueberry. You're wasting my time." His comment seemed to have hit a nerve. The man craned his neck towards his direction and glared at him._

"_Grimmjow," he said. Shirou deduced that it was his name._

"_Can't even finish a sentence? Are you drunk? God, I'm going to have to deal with this piece of crap fruit loops," Shirou muttered and placed his hand on his face, exaggerating his annoyance to the level of one that would be shown in a babysitter that had to put up with a stupid 5-year-old._

"_You call me that again and we're gonna have one hell of a problem, Freak," the man named Grimmjow growled._

_Shirou's patience seemed to have drawn close to snapping. He hated people who referred to him with that term. He furrowed his brows deeper, his eyes almost angry slits. "I'm…not going to like you, am I?"_

_The sight that greeted him confirmed his theory, as Grimmjow gave him a wide, feral grin, the man's sharp canine showing. "No." He said. "You think I'm going to?"_

_A scoff came from Shirou as a reply. The corner of his lips tugged back into a wry smile. "Hell no."_

- N O W -

"Nice to see ya, albino freak."

Shirou was tempted to narrow his eyes like he used to when he first met the blue devil, but time changed a lot of things, and his emotions were more under control now, a change that was actually pretty negative to many people—not that his former serious character was much better.

"Wish I could say the same," Shirou answered, a smirk tracing his lips. "You haven't change at all. The laughably blue hair, the _sassy_ attitude…" His grin widened, and he shrugged. "Could have been worse."

Shirou didn't know when he had picked the joker-like trait up, but he had a fleeting idea of it being inherited from Gin. The man was as creepy as hell. Despite the fact that Shirou had been working with him for more than two years in the past, he had to admit that the man was not someone he could get used to in that amount of time—probably never.

After being referred to Hueco Mundo by Gin, and though he was grateful for the action _during_ the time, it was actually a bother that some people associated his attitude to that of the fox-faced bastard, especially when he smiled. If he remembered correctly, an old acquaintance of his said his current speech pattern and tone of voice reminded him of Ichimaru Gin in his penchant for facetious remarks, though Shirou was much more serious than Gin. That last comment didn't make the comparison of him and the eerie bastard any better.

"I can't believe I'd actually mistaken someone for you."

Grimmjow's comment snapped Shirou out of his rumination, his golden irises focusing back onto the smirking face of the man. He glowered.

"Yeah, well, can't believe that your memory sucks that much either," he muttered.

Grimmjow wasn't fazed by the insult. "No, really, with that kind of stupid paleness that could rival a ghost's, I _really_ shouldn't have forgotten," he scoffed, "even if we haven't seen each other in years."

"Thank God," Shirou exclaimed.

Right after he was done with Hueco Mundo, Shirou had left the organization without even a glance back, not even bothering to thank Gin for introducing him to the job. Now that he thought about it, Gin should have been fully throttled for pulling him into that accursed group full of morons and bastards and assholes alike, that fox-face included.

But it wasn't before leaving a couple of fireworks set on timer in his shared apartment with Grimmjow and Ulquiorra that he truly said _au revoir_ with a contented smile.

Shirou saw something moved out of the corner of his eyes, and found an upset Ulquiorra folding his arms across his chest, seeming to be in deep thoughts, or keeping his anger in check. It wasn't surprising actually to see a clear ire practically radiating off of the green-eyed man's body. Out of the two, Shirou felt that Ulquiorra had more reason to be pissed off.

After all, thought Shirou, he had always been the one who had to clean up the mess. Probably the fireworks too. And at the notion, Shirou couldn't help but smile.

"Hey there, Ulqui," Shirou greeted the other man. "Miss me?"

The answer, as expected, came out curt and snappish. "No."

Shirou kept the grin on his face and moved into a more casual stance. Although the three of them had been conversing for the past few minutes, Shirou noticed that none of them had moved from their spots. He mentally cackled at the caution they were showing for one another.

_Glad to know that these bastards haven't been slacking off._

Shirou lifted an eyebrow. Then he glanced at the dumbfounded teen in the living room. Ichigo was clearly in a state of bewilderment, his emotions easily playing off his face like a slideshow, and Shirou decided that he also like that side of the teen as well.

He was about to put in a snarky remark when Grimmjow cut him off with something that was not entirely directed at him.

"Ichigo."

Grimmjow eyed the teen with a blank expression, his lips pulled back in a grimace as he pondered in silence. He admitted that he was in utter shock when he saw Ichigo in the room, but he reeled his feelings in quick once he also noticed the albino _freak_ standing in the middle of the living room looking pissed off. It wasn't hard to put the pieces of facts together, and the conclusion Grimmjow came to left him less than pleased with the situation.

His glare landed back on Shirou. "What. The. _Fuck_."

The statement could have been interpreted into many different things, that Grimmjow saw something strange and was totally bemused by it perhaps. But that wasn't the case, and every occupants of the room understood his words perfectly.

"Seeing you was bad enough," Grimmjow muttered. "And just hearing you sprouting stupidities was the effing worse way to waste my time. But _no_, that's not enough for you, is it? You have to add _this_," he shoved a finger in Ichigo's direction, blue eyes angrily fixed to Shirou, "to the list of reasons you're going to get killed for."

Shirou's lips tugged back very far, nearly reaching his ears, and a laugh passed through it. "Me?" he asked, amused. "_I'm_ going to get killed, you say. By who? You? Don't make me laugh."

Grimmjow cracked his knuckles. "You're not gonna be able to when I'm done with you—."

"Grimmjow."

He was about to lunge when a cold hand landed on his shoulder, holding him there in place. Grimmjow was about to whip around and punch Ulquiorra's face in for stopping him, but he frowned and relaxed his stance considerably when he saw that the smaller man's gaze was not on him.

"What—?"

"Listen."

The sound of numerous footsteps was approaching rapidly, along with a very low buzzing noise that could only belong to a transmitter. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes as his ears picked up commanding words that possibly came from the end of the hallway.

"Well, this sucks," said Shirou suddenly, nonchalantly, but there was a small strain on his voice.

Grimmjow turned and glared at him. A moment of consideration, and then he spoke.

"They know you're here."

It was not a question.

Shirou gave a shrug and rubbed the back of his neck, as if embarrassed. "I guess." He turned to face Ichigo. The teen looked confused and a bit wary at the whole situation, and Shirou had to hold back a chuckle at the angry frown he was receiving from him.

"Gotta give them credit for this, right, Ichigo?" Shirou asked, far too amused. "They _are_ improving, after all. I think it's probably because of Kuchik—."

"_Them_?" Ichigo could feel the suspicion settling in the back of his mind. "Don't tell me…"

A smile from Shirou was enough to make Ichigo scowl. Obviously the situation at hand was not something to laugh about, and clearly it was no joking matter, but Shirou couldn't stifle the cackle that came out from his mouth. As expected, he was met with a furious glower from Ichigo.

In fact, he felt three pair of eyes glaring and burning holes into him, as he casually glanced outside the door to see a sign of gray smoke slowly creeping inside the room. Then a shout:

"This is the police; we've got you surrounded! Come out slowly with your hands where we can see them!"

Shirou smirked.

"Ah~, life."

* * *

Umm, so as I told some of the reviewers, this story's plot is really really...close to being nonexistent right now cus I have forgotten what my primary aim was when I started the story. This is what happen when you procrastinate and drag the story out for too long. What I want to ask is, with this chapter, I can actually sorta make an additional plot that I just thought of and continued with them actually GOING to prison, which would of course mean that the story would be longer, or would you rather I end the story sooner. There's going to be an epilogue for this story regardless of the choice, so your pick!

Oh, and I have a poll up for newer stories, probably one-shots and collection because I still have to work on "Hitman, Inc." after "Mistaken" so I'm not ready to take up another multi-chapter fic yet. Please vote!! :)


	13. Four Birds with One Stone

A/N: Man, do I get the award for procrastination or not? sorry guys, but tough time. Yes, I know a year is inexcusable, and most of you probably already dropped this story because of this damn author -_- gomen. This is what happens in transitioning to college. End of life as we know it. phew. Now on to the story.

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_**Chapter 12: Four birds with one stone… **_

They say that life is precious and needs to be cherished, that it shouldn't be thrown away so easily or thought lowly of.

One certain flame of life was about to be extinguished tonight, though...

"You," Grimjow muttered," are fucking _dead_."

The blue-haired man could barely keep his anger under control, his eyes practically throwing daggers at the albino across from him. Both of them were shackled by the wrists, clearly uncomfortable and peevish.

'Shirou was going to die tonight,' Grimmjow had vowed the moment he found himself and the rest of the occupants of Shirou's apartment being taken to Seireitei Prison. He had never been incarcerated before, never even thought about the ridiculous notion of him going to jail, no, Grimmjow prided himself on his ability to evade the police.

However, Shirou had to mess it all up. Grimmjow frowned. No wonder Szayel wanted the group as far away from him as much as possible.

At first Grimmjow thought it was just Szayel being paranoid and sissy, but now that he experienced first hand what Shirou could drag them into, he conceded to the idea of listening to the pink-haired man more often.

He glanced at Ulquiorra. The man was probably in an even worse mood. After all, he was the best of the bests in his line of work, especially when it came to keeping them out of the police radar. On closer inspection, Grimmjow could have sworn he saw waves of wrath radiating off the back of Ulquiorra. The man was obviously close to losing his cool, and nobody liked it when he finally snap, which was seldom, but very, _very_ destructive.

Grimmjow grimaced. To make matter worse, when he turned back around to say something to Ichigo, he saw the damn bane of his existent snuggling close to the oblivious teen. With a growl, he barked at Shirou to keep his hands to himself, making the officer next to him jump at his ferocity.

"Get the fuck over here so I can kick you white ass!" Grimmjow made a move to lunge even though his arms were bound behind his back. It made Shirou cackle and sent the blue-haired man into a fit of rage. "I'm not even joking with you, _freak_!"

"You'll do well to stop calling me that."

Shirou glared at Grimmjow's audacity to refer to him by the hated label. It was strange that he always feel irritated with the "nickname." He was never above name callings, so he wasn't bother by scathing remarks, but somehow, "freak" always seemed to get under his skin. "And I told ya before, and I'll tell ya again and again: you don't have a chance of beating me, _kitty_."

A snort was sent his way. "Even in your _dreams_ I will, bastard."

Shirou laughed at the comment. "You pathetic _stray_."

"Pompous asshole."

"Bitch."

"_Fucker_."

The two poor officers that were supposed to guard them couldn't even _try_ to keep them down. The instant they attempted to even touch either one of the arguing duo they were met with a glare that could probably send them into a violent coma. They didn't try again since the first time and had been sitting quietly at their respective seats next to the door, moping about their jobs.

Ichigo sighed at the scene. For the most part, he wasn't even paying attention to the argument. The only thoughts going through his head was how he was going to explain to his family about being send to jail. Groaning, Ichigo continued to watch his feet, anxious about everything. He had his future to think of, too, his school life, friends, love life...all that going down the drain because of what?

Ichigo raised his head to sneak a glance at the three criminals in the van.

'Ulquiorra looked really homicidal right now…' was the first thing that came to mind.

And as if the man could hear him, he looked up. The moment Ulquiorra's dark eyes turned to his, Ichigo wisely moved his own somewhere less harmful.

His gaze settled on Grimmjow, and something in his heart clenched. Ichigo immediately swallowed and looked down again at his shoes, wondering what the hell that was all about.

Ichigo blushed, and then, finding his face heat up, quickly shook his head to get rid of any signs of the crimson shade.

That guy was all to blame. So why was he not feeling any regret for meeting him?

"Hey, Ichi, tell him that I'm not doing anythin' to ya!"

Ichigo started at a sudden nudge, blinking. "Huh?"

Shirou rolled his eyes and leaned his head on the teen's shoulder, pouting and whining like a kid who wasn't getting what he wanted. "Grimmjow's saying I'm molestin' ya and he's calling me offensive names. I don't like tha'"

"Oh—_FUCK_. _YOU. _Why are you such a brat?" A shout from Grimmjow only made Shirou stick out a tongue at him and push even closer to Ichigo.

"Umm…guys—."

"If Ichi's bother by it then he'll complain," Shirou interrupted with a grin, "I ain't gonna take shit from ya, O~mighty Grimmjow Jaegarjaques the big, bad pussycat."

Ichigo tried to be a mediator and all, he truly did, but he didn't make much of an effort to assuage something that was a lost cause. What started off as simple scathing remarks might as well escalate into an all out brawl if the two had the area to start one.

How he wanted the trip to jail would quickly end…

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

His wish was granted half an hour later, accompanied with noisy gripes and near-accidents—that was obviously caused by Grimmjow and Shirou—all the way until they reached Seireitei.

The van stopped moving with barely a screech against the pavement, the engine still rumbling softly as the driving officer got out of the vehicle. Ichigo heard him acknowledging a superior with a loud "Sir!" before explaining the details to him.

Inside the van, the two disturbances had finally quiet down to an extent. Ulquiorra had shifted in his seat and was now concentrating on something. Something that also appeared to have caught Grimmjow's and Shirou's attention.

Ichigo watched the two frown at each other, but somehow the situation didn't seem like before. They were in an agreement of some sort, as if they settled on a common interest. Ichigo couldn't place what it was, but the pair seemed to have a reaction to the conversation between the officers outside. Rather, they looked as if they were focusing on a certain voice, like they recognized it.

"Shirou." Ulquiorra, for the first time since they were stuffed into the small van, spoke up, his face as expressionless as ever; however there was a tinge of somberness to his tone. "If _he_ is the one who will be monitoring us, you know what that would mean."

Shirou seriously nodded, surprising Ichigo with the change of mood. "I'm not surprised," he replied. "Kuchiki was pissed as hell about the last jail-break, so he's all in for gettin' me and the other prisoners back in Seireitei." He grimaced. "_Me_, especially."

"No-friggin-duh! You're the cause of that break after all," Grimmjow scoffed. "I don't know why you just have to pull us into it, though. That's the worse, bringing us down with you."

Shirou mirthlessly smiled. "Yeah, sorry about tha'." He shrugged. "I was kinda already really close to being captured, so I figured why not."

"You bastard. Is that why you kidnapped Ichigo? To get to us?" Grimmjow snarled.

"Don't flatter yourself," Shirou replied with a wave of his hand, dismissing the claim without much thought. "I didn't even know the kid was with you until he told me."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at that. "Then why—?"

"Why not?" Shirou flippantly responded. "I like Ichi."

Ichigo blushed at the declaration, and turned to see Shirou grinning at him. The mortification made Ichigo miss Grimmjow's widened eyes and tensed form.

The blue-haired man was upset about Shirou's comment. He didn't know if he meant it or not, but the fact was that he beat him to saying it out loud. Grimmjow sneaked a glance at Ichigo and frowned at the way Ichigo's face turn red.

He would never admit it to Ulquiorra or anyone in his inconsiderate "team" lest he wanted eternal teasing from them about him growing soft or something close to that, but Grimmjow found that he liked spending time with Ichigo. It hadn't been more than a week and he was already reduced to a love-struck fool, anxious and worried about Ichigo when he wasn't with him. Although it turned out that Grimmjow had every reason to be when the teen turned up with his worse nemesis.

Grimmjow mentally scoffed. Ichigo was really a magnet for trouble…

He blinked as a sudden thought passed through his mind. He smiled.

_Ichigo was _his_ magnet for trouble though…_

Cliché…but…

At the very least, he wanted him to be.

Before Grimmjow could say anything, Ichigo started to question about the officers outside with honest curiosity. The teen was tired of being the only one ignorant of the situation, and he figured it was high time to get some answers.

"So, who's Kuchiki?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow at the name. It was familiar, but he wasn't sure where he heard it before today.

Grimmjow pushed all thoughts about the teen to the very back of his mind before clicking his tongue at the simple question. He leaned back against the wall. "Kuchiki Byakuya," said Grimmjow, "is one of the captains of the Gotei 13."

"Gotei 13?"

Nodding, Grimmjow continued. "The 13 Court Guards of Seireitei. They're pretty much the people who run the place, a bunch of laws-abiding, stick-up-the-ass kind. There're 13 divisions and each division has a symbol to represent them. Only the captains and the lieutenants have them on their uniforms, though. That's basically the gist of it."

Grimmjow yawned and cracked his back. "Anyway, Kuchiki's apparently one of those big-shots around that's been rounding up infamous criminals or some shit. I would say he's not a bother or anything but…"

"He is."

Ulquiorra finished Grimmjow's words. His green eyes darkened slightly and he turned to completely face Ichigo. "If we were one of his priorities, I would have a hard time to ensure all of our safety. Grimmjow and I might make it on our own, but if we were with Stark, Szayel, and Nnoitra, too, the percentage of us evading Kuchiki unscathed is very low."

He sighed.

"We _weren't_ quite Kuchiki's concern before," Ulquiorra continued, directing his gaze to Shirou. "But then you come around."

"Hey, hey, hey…if you haven't barge into _my_ apartment to get revenge or whatever you wanted, you wouldn't be in this mess, and I would have taken Ichi and run." Shirou said in defense. He moved to raise his hands up in front of his chest to emphasize the point, but he forgot that the shackles were in the way. Shirou tsked at the impediment.

"And how would that have worked successfully, may I ask?" Ulquiorra tipped an eyebrow up with skepticism.

Shirou smirked proudly. "I had an escape route prepare and all, but when I factored you guys into it, I would have gotten caught if I try. See, you guys would get in the way." He shot a glance at Grimmjow and smirked at the man. "_You_ would have been too loud and too uncooperative."

"Stop blaming other people and admit that you couldn't figure anything out, you shameless liar," Grimmjow exclaimed with a tired drawl. The argument during the ride had taken most of his anger and energy out, which was actually a good thing in a way. He didn't need to put up with Shirou and raise a commotion so close to Seireitei. It wouldn't bode well for him.

And now that fucker was tattling to Ichigo again. It pissed him off.

"Ichi~Look how that bastard is undermining me!" Shirou pouted and tilted his head towards the orange-haired teen, much to the latter's discomfort. "We wouldn't be like this if we were alone, ya know. Those bastards ruined everything."

Grimmjow groaned. "Oh, shut up."

Shirou winked at the irritated man. "You're just jealous cus you're not the one cuddling Ichi."

"You—!"

Suddenly the door was opened and the evening light came pouring into the back of the van. The four occupants turned their heads towards the officers outside, spotting three of the black uniforms and badges of high ranking authorities almost immediately.

One of the three was a white-haired man in his mid-forties, with a kind, smiling face that didn't seem to fit the descriptions of Grimmjow's strict and laws-abiding captains of the Gotei 13. However, on closer inspection, Ichigo could see a crest on his chest that was in a shape a flower, a Lily perhaps.

The second one was a redhead with tattooed eyebrows, and similarly, he had a crest on his right armband, but a different one, a flower that was also the same as the stoic-looking officer's he was standing next to.

It was a lone, black Camelia that the calm man bore, the man who was observing the four inside the van with a cool gaze.

Someone who reminded Ichigo a lot of Ulquiorra…

"Abarai, escort the criminals to their cells. The sixth division will be conducting the interrogation for all four of them."

The red-head gave a nod to the man. "Yes, sir. Kuchiki-taichou."

At the name, Ichigo's eyes widened and turned their complete attention towards the black-haired man. This was _the_ Kuchiki Byakuya that made even Ulquiorra uncertain about his evasion skills. Ichigo believed from the start that he was this kind of man, a calm and collected individual, poised with sangfroid and pride. However, he never expected the aura brimming with pure authority, leaving no room for arguments or insubordination from his officers. It was nearly suffocating.

Ichigo heard Grimmjow scoff at the officer that was trying to guide him out of the van. The blue-haired man twisted out of his grip with a scowl and walked out with Ulquiorra behind him. They didn't have much choice in the matter. At the very least they would go down with dignity.

"Umm…Kuchiki-taichou," the redhead—Abarai—spoke up uncertainly, almost as if confused. "I know we don't know much about that criminal you were chasing, but…"

Somehow, Ichigo knew where this was heading, and it wasn't a direction that he was entirely sure he wanted to go down. He turned to Shirou and found him winking back at him with the same idea in mind, as Abarai finished his little report.

"Does _he_ have a twin?"

And as Ichigo turned away from the albino face of someone he would consider as a companion in the halls of Seireitei, he saw Kuchiki Byakuya directing his gaze right at him, cold, gray eyes immediately settling on his own troubled ones.

_Man, was he screwed…_

* * *

__A/N: Please don't expect this story to be updated quick now that this chapter actually did. Again, college is pretty full of stuff to do, school and social wise. But I will try to keep this story up as much as I can if people are still interested. Peace.


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